The Legacy of the Blacks
by Alexye
Summary: When Sirius is abandoned by his friends and resorted into Slytherin, he is forced to confront his family and exactly what being a Black means. DarkSirius AU, future DarkHarry.
1. Prologue: To be, or not to be

Author's note/disclaimer: ** Absolutely none of this stuff belongs to me. Except the plot. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I'm most definitely not making any money off of this, so please don't sue me!!!! **

Okay, so this is my first fanfiction ever (even though I've been reading fanfics forever… go figure) so please be nice when reviewing. **Don't flame. **Criticism's fine, but it helps if I know what you're criticizing :)

**Also, I got the idea for this story from reading ****Enjie Yekcam's oneshot Killing Hope Saving Sanity. Yes, I got permission to take the beginning idea and turn it into this story. This will be a Dark Sirius story, but other then that, I'm not saying anything.**

* * *

Chapter 1: Prologue: The Conundrum

Sirius Black was an enigma.

No, he was more then that. He was an anomaly, an unknown specimen, a rotten leaf on the otherwise exemplary tree that was the House of Black.

Of course, there had been other rotten leaves; but they had been dealt with quite easily. They were the leaves on the farthest branches; the leaves that bore rotten fruit.

They were the leaves that were unneeded.

But Orion was faced with a problem of a different sort. One that, had he lived a few centuries earlier, would have been dealt with with unfaltering cruelty, torture, and, ultimately, death.

Of course, this was the 20th century. And it was just not politically correct to kill one's eldest son.

Even if he _did_ deserve it.

And it'd be hell to pay to get the carpet cleaned.

* * *

Walburga Black prided herself on the dignity, the majesty, and the regality that she carried herself with at all times. A dignity that was slowly being eaten away at with the antics of her eldest son, yes, but dignity none the same.

And most of all, she prided herself on what she believed was a rare ability to handle any situation before her with the grace that befitted her rank.

And Sirius, as usual, seemed determined to destroy this.

Walburga smirked as she peered at herself at the 17th century silver gilt mirror. The boy was troublesome, yes, but he had potential. Otherwise she would have probably killed him by now, but that wasn't the point.

And Orion saw that too. It wasn't that she was flattering herself, thinking that no son of hers would ever join the legion of blood traitors that was steadily growing bigger. But Sirius did have the potential to become a great wizard if only he applied himself. Of course, by great she meant traditional. And yes, by traditional, she meant dark.

* * *

Bella Black simply did not care whatsoever about her cousin Sirius.

That is, not to say she never cared, but she definately didn't care now. Of course not. He was a blood-traitor and a Gryffindor and an idiot and mudblood lover and-

Bella sighed as she went over the reasons she was supposed to hate Sirius in her head. The truth was, she didn't hate Sirius; she never had and she probably never would. But it wasn't _fair_. She still remembered him as a baby, a kid, growing up and just so excited to go to Hogwarts-

There she was on that subject again. Bella groaned. It was just so hard to not care; but she couldn't, of course. She was going to join the Dark Lord; she was going of to fight. And the likelihood was that Sirius was going to be fighting too.

Just not on her side.

* * *

Sirius's younger brother, when not getting him in trouble, was often found in the family library. Reading, of course, about the Dark Arts, but that wasn't the point. The point was, at least he _bothered_ to learn things before deciding which side he was on.

Regulus frowned as he thought about Sirius. He didn't get Sirius in trouble just because of the House rivalry. In fact, he really couldn't care less that Sirius was in Gryffindor. It wasn't a bad house; in fact, it proved Sirius had qualities that would be very useful in life. Regulus hated how so many people discounted the other houses; he'd love to have a loyal Hufflepuff at his back any day. And Ravenclaw spoke for itself. And Grffindors, for all their stupidity, could always be counted on to stand up for their beliefs.

Even if those beliefs were incredibly imbecilic.

_And_ even if Slytherin was the best house.

Honestly, ambitious didn't mean bad. Slytherins promoted their beliefs; and for people to say you were dark just because you were in Slytherin was idiotic. Gryffindors did the same exact thing.

Just in a different way.

And more people agreed with them.

No, Regulus didn't hate Sirius, or the fact that he was in Gryffindor. He hated the fact that Sirius couldn't see what was right in front of him; the fact that his friends, no matter what, would abandon him without regret if he ever slipped up. He hated the fact that Sirius just couldn't see that his so-called friends couldn't see him without thinking of Slytherin, without thinking that he _was just like them_, that he would betray them at any second. He hated the fact that Sirius just couldn't see the grey; that he only saw the black and the white, the right and the wrong. That he saw things the Gryffindor way.

And most of all, Regulus hated the fact that Sirius would give up his whole family, _his own younger brother_, for any chance to be able to make his friends' fears go away.

And the thing was, even that wouldn't do it.

They would _always_ fear some part of him; even if was only a small part.

* * *

**I will update as soon as possible, but reviews are welcome in the meantime!**

**- Alexye**


	2. Chapter 1: That is the question

**Hi everyone,**

**I'm so sorry for taking so long to update this story. Truth be told, I just wasn't sure if I could write it anymore. However, the reviews I've gotten since I stopped posting- just the fact that people found this story after I hadn't updated it for a year- inspired me to rewrite the story completely. **

At the precise stroke of midnight on the 7th of August, a man could be found in a stately manor on the seaside of England. A candle, almost dead, barely illuminated his face in its' final moments. The house itself sounded empty: if there were any other occupants, they were either asleep or- more likely- dead.

The man himself seemed to blend into his surrounding as much as his surroundings seemed to blend into him. The little light there was served only to illuminate the fact that he was still fully dressed.

"My Lord?" The tiny voice was barely distinguishable and the darkness of the room only further threatened to overwhelm it.

The man turned, seemingly startled. "Ah, Mr. Pettigrew." A sneer could be heard in his voice. "I suppose you... _finally_ have some information for me?"

"Of- of course, my Lord."

"Good. I would hate to have to inform you family of your most unfortunate demise." He stood up out of the chair and slowly made his way over to the closed windows, pausing for a moment to open one. It was painfully obvious, even with the little light, that his body had seen better days.

Pettigrew shuffled nervously, starting when he was reward with a chilling stare.

"Tell me, Mr. Pettigrew," he started, sneering with mocking amusement at the smaller man's name, "what you would know about a certain teenager called Remus Lupin?"

* * *

August was the bane of Sirius's summer and had been ever since he had started Hogwarts. The only August Sirius remembered as particularly notable was the year before he started Hogwarts when his parents nearly smothered him with affection- but that was back when they still believed he would be a Slytherin. After all, despite his many faults, where else would he end up?

Since that summer, though, things had merely gotten progressively worse. It wasn't that June and July weren't bad- because they were, simply in another way. But at least his family made an effort to talk to him during those early months of summer.

By August, though, his family had made the inevitable discovery that no, Sirius was not going to try and be more Slytherin and no- this was a new one- he was not going to marry the perfect pureblood they had picked out for him. He had to hand it to them, though; he had nearly been suckered by his uncle into believing that his introduction to "this lovely young woman I ran into in Paris- you wouldn't believe how much the young girl has grown up- why, I still remember her running wild with Bellatrix and nearly blowing up the farm" was a mere accident and not an- admittedly brilliant- scheme to get him to betroth himself for life in a rarely used blood ritual.

Yes, Sirius couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts, and judging by the cold silence that surrounded him day and night, neither could his family.

* * *

Jennifer O'Connelly may have been a mere squib, but she knew how to spot a pureblood payday when she spotted one. And boy, was this little redhead a _big_ one.

When the Evans had moved into the house next to her's, she had understandably been very annoyed. She was, after all, nearly eighty years old, and had neither the time nor the energy to throughly torture the muggles that had had the arrogance to bother her with their children's screaming and the constant chatter of gossip in the mother's tea room until they moved out.

She may have been a squib, yes, but she was still of witch's blood and witch's bone- and by the Seven, she was the last of the O'Connelly clan.

Even as a squib they could not deny her her birthright. And this girl... why, the power she had nearly sang in the wind. There were simply so many possibilities: a wife to refresh the inbred lines of purebloods, perhaps; the children she would bear would be strong indeed. Or her magic could be used as a power conduit: with it, an already strong wizard would be nigh unbeatable.

Yes, there were many possibilities. And if she could only be the first to Claim the child... why, the slave-price she would fetch would be worth the time and effort indeed.

Mrs. Evans was having an absolutely boring day. Though her oldest, Petunia, was a perfect angel, Lily was a constant thorn in her side. She knew that she was supposed to love her family- especially her offspring- but it was just so _hard_. She knew when Lily was a child that there was just _something_ off about her; whether it was the way her eyes shone with unnatural greenness, or how plants just seemed to bloom in Lily's mere presence, she didn't know. It wasn't just plants, though- there was something wrong with that girl. Mrs. Evans didn't care that the doctors had told her there was nothing wrong with her girl: _she _had seen it. Her husband had seen it. Petunia had seen it.

When the letter from Hogwarts came, she knew then and there what had happened. Of course she had to act as calm as possible when the professor had come to see them; act as if there was nothing weird about an old man with a long white beard in a maroon suit coming to her house.

She should have killed Lily when she was a child; she was a monster, a demon. Her child had died before she had even been born; this _thing_ was not hers. There was no way she could have given birth to a... to a _witch_.

The ring of the doorbell startled her out of her musings. Of course, Lily had to run to get it. No one was supposed to see Lily, no one could suspect a thing before she disappeared.

She had to get to the door. Had to hide the demon. But Lily was already talking to the- the old woman? That couldn't be right. The only old woman that lived near them lived next door, and she never came out of her house.

Mrs. Evans rushed to the door. She couldn't subject the sweet old lady to the demon, she had to save her. Had to...

The old lady was already in the house. Mrs. Evans blinked. The old lady smiled. "Would you like some cookies?"

"And... and I just couldn't believe that," Mrs. Evans hiccuped, her breath rotten with sherry, "that I had given birth to a _demon_." For a second, it seemed as if the old lady had sneered at her, but then she blinked. The old lady was harmless!

The old lady- Mrs. O'Connelly, Mrs. Evans remembered- smiled in what Mrs. Evans fancied was a grandmotherly fashion (her own mother, after all, had refused to speak to her own mother, and she had always dreamed that her grandmother would have been a sweet, old lady). "Would you like another cookie, dearie? They always cheer me up. My children were just so naughty too."

Mrs. Evans let loose another loud hiccup. "Don't mind if I do. Lily is just so... so," her words started to slur together. "I'm sor-sorry. I think all this sherry's gettingg to me-to me."

The old lady started to giggle a little madly. "Oh, I wouldn't worry _dearie,_" she muttered with a sneer. "It's not the sherry that's getting to you- well, not just the sherry," she said with an eye towards the nearly empty bottle. "In fact, I think you might just be open to a little... _suggestion_. Now, as to your lovely daughter, Lily the witch..."

Mrs. Evans had only one thought before her mind was irrevocably lost.

_How did she know Lily was a witch?_

**~Alexye**_  
_

**The next update will be tomorrow night. Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter!**


	3. Chapter 2: Whether 'tis Nobler

**Hey guys! As promised, here's the second chapter of Legacy. Thanks for all the reviews!**_  
_

**D-man23: There's been a couple of major changes to the plotline, but the general plot will remain the same (some parts may even seem a little familiar- I am reusing small parts of previous stuff I'd written for the story). Hope you like it!**

_Previously, in The Legacy of the Blacks: How did she know Lily was a witch?_

"No."

"Come on, Remus, it's our duty."

"No, it's not."

"Remus, we'd practically be Death Eaters ourselves if we them get away with this."

James chimed in again. "They think they can get away with anything just because they're purebloods. Before we know it, You-Know-Who could get into Hogwarts-"

"James, you're overreacting-"

"He's right, we have to!"

The three boys turned to the normally silent Pettigrew with incredulous looks. He blinked nervously. "... James is- he's- he's right. We have to take down the Death Eaters before they- before they let in-"

James cut him off before he could finish. "Remus, think of the lives we could save- the next Death Eater to come out of Hogwarts could be the next Selwyn, or even-"

"Or they could be the next Greyback." Sirius spoke quietly, his voice cool. It was a low blow and everyone knew it. Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. James merely lifted an eyebrow. "We have to stop them-" he paused. "I need to stop them. You know as well as I do what they're capable of." Remus looked turned his gaze to the window, but both James and Sirius waited to see what he would say. Finally he shifted his gaze back to the other Marauders.

"You guys aren't going to make this easier on me, are you?"

James laughed, breaking the tension.

"Okay, what's your plan so far?" Remus looked directly at James, his gaze deadly. "What do you need me to do?"

James didn't bother looking at Sirius, instead leaning back into the seat. "We need to gain their trust and we need to know their plans. We need to be able to stop them before they leave Hogwarts and join He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named- if they haven't already. We need to stop the infection at its' source." His voice became lower, predatory. "The Blacks, Malfoy, the Lestranges, and Snivellus are our main targets. If we can gain their trust, we can figure out what the Dark Side is planning."

Remus snorted. "Do you really think that their families would tell children what they're planning?"

James glared fiercely at him. "Don't you think He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named wants spies in Hogwarts? If we stop them before they do anything, we'll be the heroes of the Light." Sirius and Peter looked at James in silence.

Remus sighed. "Okay." He glanced at Sirius. "But you guys still haven't told me what the plan is. How, exactly, do you propose to gain their trust? In case you haven't noticed for the past, oh, six years, we're hardly their favorite people."

James looked at Sirius pointedly. Sirius shifted under his eyes.

"What?"

Remus turned his head towards Sirius questioningly.

"... No."

"Sirius..."

"What can't you understand about no?"

"Sirius, you're the only one who even has a shot."

"That's not-" Sirius paused to look around at his friends. James, the pureblood prince of the Light; Peter, the... well, the wimp of the group; and lastly Remus. Remus, who- _well, we liked to pretend he had a future, _Sirius thought. _But he's never going to have a life. Too Dark to be Light, but too Light to be Dark._

_The same could be said of me._

He had blocked them out while he was thinking, not that he missed anything. Well, maybe Remus. Peter was chatting nervously, never one to miss an opportunity to stutter. He interrupted abruptly.

"I'll do it." Thankfully, Peter shut up.

James looked over him carefully. "So." Sirius met his eyes steadily. "How will we do this? There's no way you can be a Gryffindor, first off. No one's going to believe that." Sirius snorted. He remembered his parents' response after his Sorting well enough. "We need to figure out how to get you out of Gryffindor."

"You're talking about a re-Sorting," murmured Remus. "You know as well as I do that that hasn't happened since-"

"But it's not impossible," said James, not bothering to let Remus finish. "We know two Board members, after all. If we can convince them to sponsor a re-Sorting-"

"-If I can convince my father to help, you mean-"

"-We can get a re-Sorting easily. But we need to convince them-"

"-and the School-"

James didn't even blink. "-And the School that Sirius, is, well- serious."

Peter laughed nervously.

* * *

When the train had pulled into Hogsmeade, the sun had already set. Moonlight illuminated the paths leading up to the carriages, but the forest surrounding them were pitch black.

Sirius was frightened for the first time in his life of Hogwarts.

It wasn't that he could see the horses; he had always been able to, ever since he came to Hogwarts. Nor was it the darkness; the Black house, in London, was far darker and colder at night. Rather, it was all of the things combined; the darkness, the ghoulish horses, and the moonlight; which itself was eerily spooky in these circumstances.

When their carriage pulled up to Hogwarts, the Marauders jumped out quickly. The night was chilly; and even the damp castle hallways seemed better with the enchanted torches that threw light into all but the darkest corners.

Still, Sirius wished that somehow, the carriage ride had take just a bit more time.

He snapped his head out of the clouds as he heard someone calling his name. James gestured rudely to him.

"Hurry up, Padfoot, we don't want to miss the feast!" Sirius grinned back at him cheerfully. Well, it was a forced cheerfulness, but his spirits did rise at the prospect that things weren't that different. Sirius hurried up the steps of the castle as he yelled back to his friends, earning more then a few glares on the way up.

"Stop worrying, Prongs, the midgets will wait!"

* * *

Regulus turned at the sound of the familiar voice that, unfortunately, turned out only to be his loudmouthed and rude brother shoving his way up the steps that led to Hogwarts. He turned back around immediately, only to find himself standing directly in front of the one and only James Potter.

"Black." The tone could not have been more cold even if a Dementer had been there. Not for the first time Regulus wondered how someone who hated Dark Families so much could even be friendly- much less best friends- with the heir to one of the greatest of the families.

Potter was standing in front of the grand door to the castle, ostentibley to look for his friends; in reality, however, he resembled one of the stone knights of the castle quite remarkabley. He stood still as Regulus walked by, only turning to look at Regulus for a brief second.

His eyes were frigid.

Somehow, Regulus doubted Potter was friends with Sirius out of any sort of generosity.

* * *

Dinner had been painstakingly brief. The Sorting- which seemed to last so long his previous years- had been short, nearly invisible; too soon did Dumbledore dismiss the students.

Sirius still had no idea what was going to happen. It was best, James had insisted, to keep it that way, and went back to muttering with Remus at his side. Except for a brief and uncomfertable interlude that featured James nearly eye-raping Lily Evans, Sirius had no idea what had been discussed at dinner. The tables were wide and the noise was loud: James, if it had been premeditated, had chosen his plotting place well.

Yes, Sirius was quite unprepared for the blow that left him staggering while they were walking into the Common Room.

"DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT, YOU RACIST PIG!" James' voice was nearly inchorent to Sirius as he struggled to tune out the ringing in his ears. His incredulous look at James only served to make the other boy more furious. All eyes in the Gryffindor common room- if they had been turned away before- not stared with undisguised curiousity towards the not-so-close best friends. Sirius merely looked at his friend in frank incredulity.

"James, what are you so mad about-"

Sirius didn't even get to finish his sentence before James lunged at him; before Potter could hit him again, however, a red light filled his eyes.

It was the last memory Sirius had of the night.

**~Alexye**

**More to come tomorrow! I love any and all reviews :)**


	4. Chapter 3: in the mind to suffer

**Hey everyone! Hope y'all like the new chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed!**

**While this new rewrite just beginning, I will say that James will be DEFINITELY be a major bad guy. I've always planned it that way. (Sorry if that reveals the future plot to anyone, but some of the reviewers did wonder about that).**

**Anyways, on to the story (and as usual, I don't own Harry Potter).**

Loud screaming woke him up the next morning.

He had a blistering headache and could barely open his eyes because of the light. From the small bits and pieces he could make out in between the black dots in his eyes, he was in the Hospital wing; why, he couldn't say. His mind was foggy and he could barely come up with a coherent sentence, much less reason out why he wasn't in his bed at home or in the Gryffindor dorms.

Sirius shook his head again as he tried to sit up, ignoring the pain that tore through his head like a lightning bolt as he did so. He blinked. He was in the Hospital wing- that much was true- but he was alone. _The screaming must have been part of a bad dream._

He was wrong. No sooner then the thought had run through his mind then a woman tore into the Hospital wing like a tornado, followed closely by the one and only Albus Dumbledore.

"HOW DARE YOU ALLOW SUCH VULGA-" Sirius tried to block out her voice to no avail. Her head was turned towards Dumbledore- thankfully, neither had noticed he was awake.

"Madame, I assure you that this is the first time that such an incident has occurred. Mister Black has lived with these boys for several years now-"

"Yes, and even I thought he was a good boy!" The woman had at least stopped shouting. Her tone, however, left no question whatsoever of her thoughts on the matter. "But this just goes to show that a leopard can't change his spots! And you- you call yourself a headmaster and I still see that _boy_ here!" She punctuated her point by turning sharply around and swinging her finger directly at Sirius.

It was Christiana Potter, who was admittedly still quite graceful in all her fury. She paused, meeting Sirius's gaze with an icy coldness.

_**Flashback**_

"_DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT, YOU RACIST PIG!" James' voice was nearly inchorent to Sirius as he struggled to tune out the ringing in his ears. His incredulous look at James only served to make the other boy more furious. All eyes in the Gryffindor common room- if they had been turned away before- not stared with undisguised curiousity towards the not-so-close best friends. Sirius merely looked at his friend in frank incredulity. _

"Ah, Mister Black, I see that you're awake." Dumbledore turned towards Mrs. Potter. "My dear Christiana, I'm afraid I must insist on talking to Mister Black alone."

Mrs. Potter kept her deadly gaze even with Sirius. Finally, she gave a petulant huff and stalked out of the room.

* * *

Dumbledore walked forward to stand in front of Sirius' plain hospital cot.

"Mister Black- Sirius, I'm afraid I'm quite disturbed by the events of last night- no, please, let me finish. I do promise that you will get your chance to speak! I have heard from both James Potter himself and from several of your roommates that you, in a discussion about Miss Evans, seemed to find it necessary to refer to her in crude and rough language." Dumbledore's eyes seemed to hold Sirius' for an impossibly long time.

"I have no choice but to take action. Now, Mister Potter-" his eyes looked at Sirius' head briefly, before turning back to meet his gaze- "has already admitted to hitting you in an- if I might say, quite noble- attempt to defend the young woman's honor. Likewise, Mister Lupin and several others have come forward to say that they saw you reaching for your wand to attack Mister Potter and, in an attempt to defend his friend, that Mister Lupin hit you with a quite impressive stunner."

"Now, I must tell you how very sad it is for me to say this. Unfortunately, you've left me no choice: I cannot allow such blatant disregard for the other students of this school to go unpunished. Therefore, I am allowing you- and _encouraging_ you- to take this opportunity to leave the school- maybe go study abroad-"

"My son will do no such thing." Orion Black walked purposefully into the room, shutting the door silently behind him. His frame, always imposing to Sirius, seemed to grow to unimaginable heights. Besides him, the normally tall Headmaster looked puny.

"Orion, I was unaware-"

"Lord Black. I have been informed of the situation; please, don't trouble yourself to explain it to me." He paused, stalking forward to stand at his son's side. "I've also been told that some students have pressed for my son's expulsion."

"We would never presume-"

"No, you would not presume to expel the son and heir of the House of Black, even for something so… _trivial_." Orion's words brimmed with contempt. "I find myself quite shocked at the fact that such violence exists at Hogwarts, though somewhat less surprised when I heard that it was the Gryffindor dorms. However, _I_ cannot allow my son to stay in such dangerous conditions."

Dumbledore practically burst with joy. "We've prepared several options for Sirius, if you'd like to take a look; there's a lovely place in Italy, or maybe Asia-"

For certainly not the first time Orion Black interrupted the Headmaster. "You've misunderstood me completely, Headmaster." He smiled coolly. "I would never desire to take my son out of the school he so loves. I would, however, ask that he be given the chance to move to a new- more appropriate- House."

The Headmaster frowned.

"And yes, I am aware that such a motion would need the approval of the Board." He handed the Headmaster a folded parchment with five grand seals and ribbons on it with the grand disdain that so became the Lord Black. "I would ask to speak with my son while you go and make the necessary arrangements."

One could hear a pin drop. The door slammed shut as Dumbledore left.

* * *

Sirius sat up to face his father.

"Did you really think you could get away with such a childish plot without me finding out?" Orion's tone was mocking and cold. Orion Black did not get angry- at least not in the traditional way. Lord Black was a man who did not lose his temper ever; instead, he waited and plotted, sometimes taking years to take his true revenge.

It was like a sudden stop after a storm. Rage swirled around him, but it was calm. And in this way, far more dangerous.

Orion calmly stepped back, moving until he stood in front of his son. Sirius did not- could not- move, but his jaw clenched even further.

"You trust to much in your friends, boy." Orion's first words since calming down had the unusual effect of making Sirius flinch. The way he said it, with so much calm; but so icy, so cold at the same time, was uncanny.

Orion noticed this, and smiled. "You trust to much in them, my son. They will betray you, you know. And you will have no one to blame but yourself."

Sirius couldn't help himself this time. "You're lying!"

But his words had no ill effect on Orion; rather, if anything, it only served to make him smirk just a bit more. Orion took a step closer to Sirius and raised his cane to his shoulder, slightly pushing him. "Sit back, Black." The name had the desired effect, and Sirius realized that now was not the time to get angry. And then he sat back down, unclenching his jaw.

"You don't know anything about my friends, father, and you really shouldn't assume anything about them." His tone matched his father's word for word; in that way, they were indistinguishable, But anything Sirius could do, Orion could do better. And his father's next words chilled him to the core.

"Actually, Sirius, I know quite a lot about them. Peter, the weakest one of all; you wonder sometimes, don't you, if he really deserves to be hanging out with you. But he serves James's perpetually growing ego quite nicely, doesn't he? And Remus…" Here Orion paused, making sure to stare right into Sirius's eyes. "Remus is the one with quite the furry little problem, am I right?" When Sirius cringed, Orion only made his smirk bigger, before changing his tone to an even colder one.

"And James; quite the leader I'm told. I must credit Potter with that, he at least has raised his son to hold his beliefs to heart. And you wonder, don't you, whether he actually trusts you… is truly friends with you, or if it's all a lie."

"Do you truly think that he is really on your side in this childish plot? He is using you, Sirius, using you to hurt your family. And as soon as he's done with you, he'll destroy you." Sirius looked away. "Why do you think you were the one who was told to take the blame, to switch houses? James Potter is smart and clever; with that little map of yours'-" Sirius's breath caught in his chest- "he could have gone into Slytherin himself and listened to all those secrets to his heart's content."

"But you say I don't know your friends. And maybe I don't." Orion paused. "Would you care to prove that?"

_Of course, Gryffindor that he was, he had taken it._

_Maybe that was what Orion had been planning all along._

"Dearest Father-" Or course, Sirius said this with the outmost sarcasm- "Dearest Father, of course I would take that bet. Only a fool would lose it."

But Sirius couldn't help but feel that he was betraying his friends each step of the way, even if he was standing up for them.

"So." Orion smirked once again. "If, per chance, say, a secret of one of your friends was to get out- engineered by me of course- and they blamed you for whatever consequences befell them, even if you could swear on your honor that you didn't do it… Well, then, you lose."

Sirius couldn't help himself; he shivered slightly.

"If you lose, you will stop this foolish nonsense and be a part of this family again. You will be a Slytherin regardless- the true question is whether you will accept it."

Sirius looked his father in the eye squarely. "And if I win?"

Orion laughed, looking away from his son. He stood up and walked over to the door, pausing for only one second to look back at Sirius, while his tone turned menacing.

"If you win, Sirius, you prize will be to be able to leave this family and never return."

And with that, Orion left the room and slammed the door.

**~Alexye**

**I had planned for more stuff in this chapter, but it kind of got a little big... so keep an eye out for the next chapter! It should be out tomorrow. And if you have any thoughts, please feel free to review :)**


	5. Chapter 4: The Slings and Arrows

**I was thinking about having the resorting this chapter… but then I decided this would be more fun instead. Hehehehehe :)**

**Everyone should definitely check out Starkid's A Very Potter Senior Year- they just uploaded it onto Youtube today! If you haven't seen their previous musicals, definitely watch them. They're so amazingly awesome.**

**Thanks for all the the reviews, they really make my day :D Please feel free to review if you have any ideas or thoughts about the plot- I really appreciate them!**

**As usual, I don't own Harry Potter. **

James Potter was furious.

James Potter was furious because his father was furious- and furious with James himself. Lord Potter had not even come to see James in person after the Board Meeting that had been called to address the violence in the Gryffindor Common Room. All because, Lord Potter had railed at him in a handwritten letter, James had forced him to reveal his bluff.

"Not ready to move against the Blacks?" James muttered viciously to himself in the empty dormitory the second morning after the fight. "I had Black in a corner, ready to be sorted into Slytherin!" He threw his books carelessly onto the bed.

He felt somewhat guilty, he really did. It wasn't like he hated his former friend- far from it! James remembered the times they had spent together. The Sirius Black he had met on train to Hogwarts their first year, the Sirius Black who insisted- quite vehemently- that he wasn't a pureblood, wasn't from a Dark family.

But that wasn't his friend anymore.

The mysterious letter that James had received over the summer had only pointed James to facts that he would have seen for himself. Only now did James realize that he had been blinded, foolishly trusting that Sirius Black could have truly turned on his family.

It wasn't Sirius' fault. It really wasn't.

_After all, how could someone truly expect a person raised in that sort of household to truly reject their own heritage? They would have to be a saint. _

James knelt down as a photo caught his eye in his trunk. It must have been taken second or third year; Sirius and James were laughing, holding their brooms in one hand as a snitch flew behind them. _We were doomed from the start. _

He had gone straight to his father with the letter, of course. Lord Potter hadn't said a word for several minutes, but by the downcast glances of his father, James knew he was disappointed.

His father's reaction was right, of course: James couldn't hold on to silly sentimental feelings now. It was war. Black had picked his side; now, the only thing to do was show that to everyone else. He grimaced.

That meant, of course, making up with Sirius; letting him believe that the plan would be held off until the future. Dumbledore had flat out refused to let the board hold a resort, and without the needed support of Lord Potter, the motion had fallen flat.

James just hated having to pretend there was nothing wrong- letting that slimy pureblood think that James Potter was too stupid to know what he was up to.

He ripped the photo up until it was nothing more than pieces. Without even a look behind him, he strode out of the dormitory to go to the Hospital Wing.

James didn't even give the last sentence of the letter a final thought. Unknown to him, however, the pocket that he had left it crumpled in had a hole. Kinly had been planning on sewing it up, but James hadn't left the robe in the laundry pile for the day. And as James Potter walked proudly through the corridors on his way to the Hospital Wing, the letter fell. It was a distinct letter: although it did not bear the signature of Lord Potter, it did have the vibrant red wax seal and crest so distinct of the Potter family. It lay on the floor for a mere second before a student, unseen by Potter, knelt to pick it up. So stealthy was the student that a person observing would not have been able to tell if James Potter was being trailed, stalked, or merely in the way of someone; either way, the letter was lost for quite sometime.

* * *

Sirius was hardly reassured that the students would simply ignore the fight even if the Marauders had publicly made up. It was, after all, the first true piece of gossip they had heard since school started, and since the first underground party wasn't planned for several more weeks, there wouldn't be anything new for the students to talk about until then. As they walked down the staircase leading to the Great Hall.

"-heard that Black slept with the Evans girl-"

"-no, Evans is pregnant and now she doesn't know who the father-"

"NO!" The last whisperer was quite emphatic. "Sirius Black had a threesome with a muggle and Lily Evans and broke her heart and now James Potter is trying to sleep with her by punching Sirius!"

The third year girl who said this in a loud whisper to her friends hadn't seen the two boys approaching behind her. When her friends- eyes going wide at seeing the infamous duo together- finally got her to turn around, she gave a little yelp and ran off so fast her bag fell off. Her friends, who by then had gotten over their amazement, ran off in search of her.

If James was bothered by the insulting rumors about his supposed love, he didn't say a word to Sirius.

* * *

Dinner was not as embarrassing as walking to it had been. It was as if nothing had changed: Remus and Peter had saved them seats, and had the whispers not be so obviously directed towards them, it would have been just like any other school night.

Sirius had to remind himself constantly, of course, that they hadn't actually fought- it was easy to forget with all the ruckus caused by the "fight" that it had just been a set up. Even so, he didn't want to know what his father was planning now that his (and James') plan to resort Sirius had failed.

The Great Hall was not as full as it had been in previous years, Sirius mused, as he looked around. Of course, with the rise of the Dark Lord, that was to be expected. Even some of the purebloods had been pulling their children out; well, at least the Gryffindor ones. But he wouldn't be pulled out.

Sirius turned his gaze back to his housemates. No one from his year had left yet; most parents probably figured they would be safer here then at home, sneaking out. Not that they didn't sneak out here.

He sighed. Remus would be the first to leave, if any of them did. But there was no point in agonizing over something he couldn't change.

* * *

James loved the Great Hall. He really did. It provided so many beautiful opportunities to a prank-master (such as himself) to cause all sorts of mayhem and mischief. Of course, one had to request the help of the house elves most of the time, but it was worth it. The potions that could be slipped into anyone's drink were endless. With that in mind, he turned his thoughts back to the Mauraders, who were currently disccusing their latest plan to prank Snivillus.

"I say, turn his hair red and gold. We haven't done that one yet!" Sirius exclaimed while putting butter on a piece of toast, and then throwing that toast at a first year. The bewildered first year looked around a bit before someone whispered in his ear not to pay attention. Sirius buttered another piece of bread.

"The reason we _haven't _done that yet is because it's so cliche. That's what everybody expects us to do." Remus muttered back.

James interjected. He wanted his plan to be the one selected. "Well, why don't we dye all of the Slytherins' hair red and gold?"

A long pause followed his statement. Sirius chucked the piece of bread he was currently holding at the first first year's friend. He then grinned widely at James. "Let's do it."

* * *

It took until Sirius was walking up the stairs on the way to the Gryffindor dorms for the obligatory shady being-pulled-into-an-empty-classroom-by-an-unknown-and-possibly-dangerous-person to occur. He didn't even resist; years of dealing with his brother had taught him that it would be useless and even embarrassing to try and stop Regulus from getting what he wanted.

"So, I hear you're about to run off with your gay lover, a one Mr. James Potter, to live in the Antarctic among the seagulls in a little hut."

Sirius blinked.

"I have to say, though, I'm quite impressed that you managed to get Potter to renounce his one true love." Regulus didn't even have the decency to look slightly abashed as he bounced up to sit on one of the desks.

Sirius finally managed to recover himself. "Well, that's certainly the most interesting one so far…" Regulus raised an eyebrow.

"What? Anything besides interesting?" He waved a hand madly at Sirius. "Narcissa was so convinced that one was true she was besides herself, and all you have to say is _interesting_?"

"At what part?"

"At what- oh, the story, well she wasn't so upset at the fact that you were running off with Potter so much that you weren't taking her with you, nevermind the fact that you'd freeze to death in a little hut."

Sirius looked regretfully at the door before taking a tired yawn as he met Regulus' smirking face again. "Well, as much as I'd love to continue this, I'm fucking tired and I'd like to go to bed."

"Aww, don't be like that Sirius, I haven't seen you in days-" Regulus caught the look and Sirius' eyes and rolled his own. "Well, fine, I guess my big secret can wait until tomorrow." Sirius didn't even bother to look back as he walked out the door. "It's really big! You really want to hear about-"

The door swung shut behind Sirius.

"Well, I guess he doesn't want to know that Father knows about his latest prank."

**~Alexye**

**Also, yes, the "new prank" is the prank that the group just came up with with the dyed hair. Hope everyone is looking forward to the next chapter! It should be posted within the next two days.**

**On a side note, I'm starting a tumblr. It should be up by the next time I post :)**

**As always, I love reviews!**


	6. Chapter 5: of outrageous Fortune

**Hey guys! Second chapter in a day- yay :) **

**One quick note: James is evil- he just isn't evil in an obvious way. I don't want him to be outright scheming; I don't think that it would make sense that he would be able to pretend to be friends with Sirius for several years and not show his "true colors" at all. Instead, he's (much) more of a bigot: he's always distrusted Sirius, just more in an unacknowledged, subconscious way. Therefore, when a mysterious someone sent him a letter, it "confirmed" his fears because he wanted to believe them- despite the obvious lack of evidence that Sirius is Dark. Hope that cleared everything up! **

**As usual, I don't own Harry Potter. And please feel free to review- I love getting reviews! **

It was a couple of weeks into school when Moony was afflicted.

Specifically, the full moon was coming up on the following Saturday. And Sirius had a major problem.

He had been served with detention.

* * *

Honestly, it hadn't been his fault. He, James, Remus and Peter had only dyed the Slytherins' hair red and gold; since when was that grounds for detention?

Their prank had gone off without a hitch the previous Saturday. Remus, natural potions genius that he was, had sneaked into Slughorn's office. Sirius had provided the distraction; Slughorn had constantly been trying to recruit Sirius to his little "Slug Club". Like Sirius would ever join.

The Marauders, however, were always quick to use this to their advantage whenever the need for items that might be considered contraband or called, by some extremists, "illegal for all wizards, witches, and other various magical creatures under the age of seventeen". And seeing as Slughorn never wanted word of his- um, "personal" ingredients getting out, he never reported the theft.

It had taken a week for the potion to be completed. Unfortunately, one of the ingredients was not to be found in the large quantity necessary for the potion in Slughorn's office. Sirius, however, quickly fixed the problem by writing to his disowned second cousin twice-removed who was married to a famous black market dealer for the moon grass needed.

The house elves, compliant as always, had poured the potion into all of Slytherin House's drinks. And so, the plan was under way.

* * *

_Saturday morning:_

Sirius and the other Marauders had gone down to the Great Hall at exactly the same time as the usually did. Experienced pranksters that they were, they knew better then to be at the scene of the crime at an unusual hour.

The Great Hall had been in a complete uproar.

The Slytherins were glaring at anyone and everyone that happened to cross their gaze. Some, upon discovering their hair, had instantly fled the scene and would not reappear for several hours. Others merely tried to ignore the stares and ate their breakfast. The ones like this included the Slytherin Prefect Lucius Malfoy.

Was he a sight to behold.

Malfoy's normally long, blonde hair had been replaced by the obscenely flashing gold-and-red dye. He, among all of the other Slytherins, received the most finger pointing, whispering, and giggles.

And try as he might, he simply could not glare away enough of the giggles. Eventually, when someone had finally whipped out a camera, he stomped out of the Great Hall while loudly promising to enact brutal revenge on the Gryffindors.

The Slytherins coming in late, of course, had managed to avoid the prank; but they too fled to their common room, most likely to plot revenge on the embarrassed house.

And then it all went down hill.

They hadn't been caught then, Sirius thought, as he mused over the recent events. The teachers may have suspected, but they had no proof and Dumbledore would never make the house elves tell.

But somehow, he had ended up in McGonagall's office, being told that a "responsible housemate had stepped forward and informed her of Sirius's participation".

Sirius wondered what he had done in life to make the Universe give him such a strict Head of House- honestly, couldn't she take a joke? Especially when it made their rival house look ridiculous?

The Marauder inside him refused to give up his fellow criminals. So he was forced to bear his punishment alone- a full night's detention with Slughorn. On a Saturday. Which would even normally have sucked, but was even more horrible this Saturday.

Saturday, the night of the full moon.

Saturday, the night Remus would transform into an Dark, magical, uncontrollable beast.

Saturday, the night he was supposed to be there with his friends.

Somehow, anyhow, he would find this so called "responsible" housemate and make them pay for making Remus suffer even more.

* * *

When it had come time for the Marauders to sneak out, James had smiled to himself gleefully. Remus was already with Madam Pomfrey, preparing to take the "secret" monthly walk down to the tree. James's plan had already been set in motion.

Sirius, the traitor, had been taken care of for the night. He wouldn't be able to hurt Remus in any way possible.

James had been doubtful at first; the letter was unsigned, and the paper gave no indication of the sender. It was undoubtedly from the same person who had sent the letter the previous summer. But the contents were straightforward and brutal.

Yes, James had expected Sirius to betray him. But to have the proof of such a betrayal in front of him was still shocking. He hadn't expected him to move so early; the past few weeks since the incident had been just like old times. If James hadn't been warned at all, he wouldn't have even suspected Sirius: Black was that good of an actor. But he had been warned, he did know what Sirius was capable off- what all Blacks, all Dark families were capable of- and he wouldn't, _couldn't_, let Sirius hurt Moony.

_If only his father had let him take care of it when school started, Moony wouldn't even be threatened tonight. _He shook the thought from his head: now wasn't the time to rail against his father_. That dense bastard.__  
_

When he had gone to McGonagall, she had been proud of him. Proud of the fact that one of the Marauders, at least, seemed to not be on the path to Hell. She had been understanding. And most importantly, she hadn't questioned him on whether or not he had been involved; whether the rest of the Marauders had been involved; whether Remus had been involved.

But best of all, she had prevented Sirius from being present at Remus's transformation.

He wouldn't be able to hurt Remus anymore. After this Saturday, James would make sure of that, even if his father disowned him for life for taking matters into his own hands.

* * *

It had been nearly eleven when Sirius was released from detention.

As he wandered back up to the common room, he wondered whether or not he should sneak out to Remus. He was about to turn back when a sound startled him. As he turned around to see what it was, he felt the slightest thud on the back of his head, followed by the odd sensation- the second time that fall- of loosing consciousness.

**~Alexye**

**Please feel free to review! I love getting reviews and I read all of them- so if you have any suggestions or ideas, they're very appreciated!**

**The next update should be either tomorrow or the day after. Right now I'm on Spring Break, but the internet's a little spotty. Once I go ****(am forcibly dragged**** back to school, the updates will be twice every week.**


	7. Chapter 6: Or to take Arms

**Author's note: sorry for the long delay- I just finished my spring exams at school, so now I can focus on the story more. From now on (probably until sometime in late May when I'll have to go on a short hiatus again for Graduation) the updates will come every Wednesday and Sunday.**

**If you'd like updates on stuff/want to see random inspirations behind my writing... I have a tumblr! Follow me: legacyofalexye .tumblr**

**And as usual, I don't claim any profit off Harry Potter :)**

Sirius opened his eyes groggily. His head was throbbing with pain, and he couldn't remember what had happened. He could feel that he was on a bed, but it wasn't his bed in Gryffindor Tower.

He lifted his head slowly, wincing with pain as he did so. Sirius couldn't see anything but darkness.

And then the room was filled with bright light. Light that illuminated a single figure standing right in front of Sirius.

Sirius blinked rapidly. What was happening?

The figure in front of him glared at Sirius. His eyes were filled with pain, with suffering, with anguish. And when he spoke, his voice was filled with betrayal.

Remus Lupin stood in front of him in blood splattered clothes. His hair was slicked back with sweat and stood in stringy clumps. His body shook slightly as he spoke.

"Why, Sirius?"

Sirius wondered what was happening. But he didn't much time to wonder over anything before he passed out in a feverish fog once again.

* * *

_He was in his room, back at the house in London. Gryffindor banners flaunted themselves proudly on the wall, permanently stuck so as to deter his parents from "redecorating". In between the banners stood motionless pictures of muggle girls from some magazine called "Sports Illustrated". And in the center was an enlarged, blown-up photo of Sirius and his friends waving madly while whipping the Maurader's map high._

_Sirius was on his bed still, and he tried to get up. But he was stuck._

_It felt almost like he was glued there._

_And then the banners started to burn; the Gryffindor red started to melt. Gold mixed in with the maroon, but only succeeded in making the red glint. The photos fell to ash; the furniture was swallowed up._

_The ceiling melted into darkness along with the walls, but the fire continued to burn in a circle around him._

_And then- everything stopped._

_The fire had burned itself out, but it left the melted red of Gryffindor behind. Sirius's bed wasn't suspended in open space anymore; it was floating._

_Floating in a sea of blood._

_And just then, Sirius's only hope, his only lifeline, was swallowed up by the raging sea around him._

_And he could move._

_But no longer could he get up and walk away; rather, now the sea was swallowing him too, and he was unable to reach the surface._

_He was grasping; reaching for anyone, anything, when_

He woke up. And he was still in the dark.

* * *

_Twelve Hours Earlier_

James was never in the best of moods whenever it was the full moon. This night, however, he was in an even worse mood then normal.

Of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that Peter hadn't stopped whining since they had left the Great Hall. Apparently, not being there for your best friend who was painfully transforming into a human-eating monster was okay, but missing enchilada night wasn't.

And God, how James hated enchilada night.

It sort of made him miss Sirius. Sort of – but no, that would mean missing the traiter. And Sirius was a traitor.

They had barely made it to the grounds when Madame Pomfrey came hurrying back in. James could understand her fear; as much as he loved Remus, he didn't really understand Dumbledore's reasoning in letting him come to Hogwarts. If word got out that a werewolf was living there, it could inspire a mass riot, a mob, a-

Three teenagers to make the highly dangerous transformation into animals?

Yeah, that'd be about right.

James and Peter- Prongs and Wormtail- knew better then to make the change while a teacher was present- a rat might have been able to get away with it, but _some _people might wonder at a giant stag. No, it was better to wait until it was dark, when there would be no moonlight to illuminate-

A figure climbing into the Whomping Willow.

James blinked. That couldn't be right.

But there it was again. No, not an it- _it_ was a person. A person with a very distinctive green-and-silver tie. A person with very distinctive hair.

_Snape_.

Suddenly, he disappeared; and just as quickly, a loud, eerie howl pierced the air.

James ran for it.

* * *

Sirius knew the room. The bed, the table, the window- he just knew them. But he didn't know from where.

And then the lights flickered on, revealing the angry figure of one James Potter.

James glowered.

Sirius blinked. And winced as he heard his own, raspy voice.

"What's going on?"

For some reason, that question seemed to set James off. He turned red- redder then Sirius had ever seen him- and walked up to the bed angrily. Each of his words bit Sirius with an indescribable ferocity.

"You"- and his voice shook-"you _little _traitor. I bet you didn't even think about it much. JUST LIKE A BLOODY SLYTHERIN!"

James was pacing now. His voice was colder- if that was possible.

"Did you even think about how Remus would feel? DID YOU? Your so-called best friend-" here he glared again at Sirius- "your friend for five years, and you didn't even hesitate to destroy his life. REMUS COULD BE IN AZKABAN RIGHT NOW, SIRIUS, AZKABAN!"

Sirius's mouth was hanging open now. He gulped nervously.

"What did I do?"

James's face bulged out, and he walked up to Sirius's side.

"I know we have teased Snape for years, Black, but even _I_ would never go that far."

Sirius's puzzlement turned to tired anger. James had always tried to turn everything into Sirius's fault: never, _never _did the illustrious Heir to the House of Potter ever do anything _wrong_.

"EVEN I WOULDN'T TRY TO KILL SOMEONE, BLACK!"

And then the door opened, and a figure stepped through.

Orion Black was unmistakable in his cutthroat black robe and his icy cold demeanor. He wouldn't meet Sirius's eyes, though; rather, he sneered bitingly at James.

"James Potter, I presume; only a _Gryffindor _would yell that crudely."

James snorted, but left the room. He left, but still managed to push rudely against the unruffled figure of Orion Black.

Orion walked up to Sirius calmly; if he had been upset by the recent circumstances, he didn't show it. Sirius's father stood calmly, regally, opposite his son and waited silently.

Sirius looked away.

"I presume that Potter didn't bother to tell you what happened," Orion said calmly. He took Sirius' silence as a hint to go on. "Remus Lupin, during his transformation tonight, smelled a human in the Shrieking Shack. It seems that someone told one Severus Snape that Lupin would be in there after curfew. Snape, no doubt intending to stop whatever devious plot he believed Lupin to be enacting, was nearly attacked by a full-fledged werewolf."

Orion paused.

"Snape claims that you told him to go looking in there. Dumbledore, of course, has not told the Board anything about tonight. However, I did spot the Potter owl leaving the castle on my way in – white is such a helpfully flashy color for a bird – and I doubt it will be long before Lord Potter is here demanding your head." Orion sat slowly down onto the bed so as not to disturb it.

"It doesn't prove anything, you know…" He whispered, but even he knew that he didn't believe himself.

Orion didn't even shift.

"I haven't even talked to him really- he'll change his mind…. he has to…"

Orion walked over to Sirius and put his hand on his shoulders. He didn't comment on Sirius's mumblings, but merely lifted his son's head back to inspect the bash.

"Regulus did quite the number on you, didn't he?" Orion managed to say this without any shock that one of his sons was bashing the other one….

Almost like he had planned it.

Sirius turned his head back to look at his father. "You planned it, didn't you? This was your big plan…" Sirius couldn't even raise his voice to yell at his father like normal. "But the thing is, I can't even bring myself to care… you were right… he didn't even give me a chance to defend myself…"

Orion looked at him thoughtfully. "You don't even care that they believed you over a _Slytherin_?"

Sirius shrugged. "To be honest… if they believed me over Snape… James already didn't trust me, so I can't really care about that… I'm just sort of angry that I wasted so much time on people who wouldn't be my friends anyways." He knew that was what his father wanted him to say, but he wasn't sure that he himself didn't believe the words.

"You could still convince them, you know. I won't force you to take the resort yet- our deal is not done…"

Sirius looked at his father, staring into his eyes. Eyes that had held hate, anger, rage, and so many more emotions. But never… never had those eyes been caring.

For the first time in Sirius's life that he could remember, his father put his hands around Sirius and hugged him.

"It was more then a promise, wasn't it?" Orion's body stiffened against his son for a moment, but then he released him. Sirius met his father's gaze unflinchingly.

"It was… and it can be more. But only if you want it to."

Sirius coldly chuckled and turned towards the open window.

"I cannot be the son you want me to be, father, even if I promise to try to the best of my abilities. But you can still make me, mold me into it."

"I could." Orion's tone was noncommittal.

Sirius turned towards his father again. "Take them away, father. Take away my Gryffindor feelings, my attachments. Until I finish Hogwarts, father, force me to be Slytherin. A _geas_, father, a binding promise; for my two remaining years here I will see things the way you always wanted me to."

"And at the end? What will you do when you wake up, torn between the past and the present?" Orion's voice was cold, emotionless.

Sirius held his eyes. "I will choose, father. But I want to know both fates before I have to. Slytherin they think me, so Slytherin I will truly be."

His father's voice was soft as he pronounced the words.

"So mote it be."

Sirius turned away towards the window once more as his father swept from the room. _So mote it be, indeed._

The sky was filled with lightning that night.

**So what does everyone think? If you think you remember reading parts of this before, you're not hallucinating- I am reusing bits of old chapters, although that should stop in the next chapter or so as I go in a different direction. **

**As always, I live for reviews! Keep an eye out for a new chapter sometime this Sunday.**

**~ Alexye**


	8. Chapter 7: against a Sea of troubles

**Hey everyone, here's the next chapter as promised! The next update will be this Wednesday.**

**It's been a bit of a busy week; I'm right outside of Boston, so we've had the wild manhunt this past week and then prom last night. Needless to say it's been crazy. I hope everyone's been safe this week.**

**Thank you to all the favorites and story follows from the last update! It means a lot to me and it always makes my day. If you have any comments about how the story's progressed so far, please let me know! I love reviews!**

**On with the chapter! (And typical disclaimer: I don't want to make any profit off of this and so on.)**

Sirius awoke in the Hospital Wing with a groggy head and a foggier memory. For the life of him, he couldn't remember being moved to the Hospital Wing at all; yet here he was, in the one of the plain, soft cots that he had so often slept in in his years at Hogwarts.

As he tried to sit up, he groaned: the pain in his head made it clear that it was still very much there. The door at the end of the hall suddenly swung open and out burst Madame Pomfrey in all her glory, clearly agitated. Her eyes immediately swung towards Sirius.

"Mister Black!" said Madame Pomfrey. "Lay back down at once!" Sirius felt very much like a naughty child with his hand caught in the floo jar.

"In all my time here… never saw the like…" Sirius could barely hear her as she bustled over to where he lay prone on his cot.

"Now." she said insistently. "I need to give you several potions, and we'll have you back up in no time – and you'll be off to play that dreadful sport soon enough, no doubt… Every year more and more injuries…" she said as she started to open the curtains around Sirius' cot.

"Madame Pomfrey?" Sirius said, instantly regretting it as her disapproving eyes swung towards him. "How long have I been in here – _why_ am I in here?"

Her gaze softened, but almost unperceptively. "Your brother brought you in here last night. It seems you knocked your head on something – on what, I'd love to know; that bump was rather nasty – and lucky you were too. It seems you caught a mild strain of Wizard's Flu," she said as she wheeled over a cart stocked full of different potions. "You've been in here all night for observation. Some of your friends tried to see you, of course – why they can never wait for morning is beyond me – but they sneaked out before I could floo Dumbledore and report them for breaking curfew."

Sirius was beyond confused. He remembered a dark room; his friends, yes, – but his father as well. Not the Hospital Wing. Before he could question Madame Pomfrey further, however, the bell signaling a visitor rang.

Madame Pomfrey bustled herself towards the door, muttering unperceptively under her breath throughout. Before she could interrogate Sirius' latest visitor, however, Regulus Black had swaggered in, beaming with a roguish smirk.

"Sirius! Long time no see!" Regulus said without a trace of irony. Sirius groaned.

"Well, I'll leave you two to talk," said Madame Pomfrey, who had become suspiciously nicer as Regulus had entered.

Regulus beamed at her. "Thank you so much, Madame Pomfrey!"

She blushed. "Well, you two are family… no thanks necessary…" she said as she wheeled the medicine cart back into her office, shutting the door with a soft clang.

Sirius sat up immediately as soon as she left, ignoring the jolt of pain in his head. "Regulus, what did you do?"

"Well, it's not really my fault if the nurse has a slight crush on me – I mean, _who_ could resist my good looks, my style and my charm and my unflinching ability to listen to Celestina –" he finally burst out laughing at Sirius' rage-filled glare. "Oh, you mean with the whole knocking-you-out-from-behind thing."

Sirius let out a groan and looked up at the ceiling. What had he done to deserve such a brother?

Regulus chuckled. "Okay, okay – father was here last night. Lord Potter was in the castle as well; he came as soon as he heard from Potter about Snape. For some strange reason, no one's even heard about what happened to Severus – we just got told that he was sick and in the Hospital Wing. There have been some strange rumors this morning about a resort, but Potter's only said that everyone will see who the true Gryffindors are. Didn't say anything about you."

"But he means me."

"Of course he means you! Now look, Sirius," he said as he sat down carelessly on the cot. "I don't know how much you remember from last night – you were pretty out of it when you finally woke up as I brought you in – but father asked me to pass on a message. He said that he'll be back before any resort takes place and you'll get a chance to prove your promise then." He paused, adopting a more somber tone. "Are you sure about this, Sirius? I don't know what you promised him – father hasn't told me anything – but I can guess that it has to do with your Gryffindor friends –"

" – if you're going to ask me if I'm sure, Regulus, you don't need to worry."

"Yes, but I know how much they mean to you," his brother said hurriedly. "And I don't want you to follow father into something and not be able to come back. You're my brother, Sirius, and I know you – don't do something rash just to prove yourself to father!"

Sirius's voice was, for once, calmer and surer than his brother's. "Regulus, don't worry," he said as he looked at his brother. "It's not about that. You'll see soon. But – but thank you."

Regulus let out a small, tense laugh and stood up. "Well, if you're sure. I'd better be off and let you have some rest!"

Sirius fell back down, only letting out sigh when he heard the door close softly. He shut his eyes and let himself fall back into the welcome darkness of sleep.

* * *

"Is he still sure?" said a voice that seemed to come out of nowhere. Regulus, however, was used to the way his father seemed to sink into the shadows when Lord Black wanted to remain unobserved.

"Yes, he seemed quite certain of himself. He didn't seem surprised in the least bit about Potter's snide comments either," Regulus said.

"Good. Then I will see you again later this week before the resort. Keep up with your letters in the meantime."

Regulus bowed his head slightly and then turned to leave for the Slytherin dormitories. Before he could take a step, though, his father's hand gripped his shoulder softly.

"You've done a good thing, Regulus," his father said quietly. "Don't doubt yourself now. Just remember, soon we'll have your brother – and my son and heir – back. _Vires et Honestas_, Regulus."

In the Gryffindor dorms, James Potter too was quiet for once. He sat in an armchair by the cold window. Most Gryffindors didn't even notice him; unusually, his friends were nowhere to be found. Remus was in the Hospital Wing. Peter, he didn't care about. And Black?

Sirius Black would soon be revealed for the _Slytherin_ he was if James Potter had anything to say about it.

A familiar redhead paused on the stairs to consider Potter as he glared holes into the window. She turned and went to find her owl.

**I hope everyone enjoyed that! As usual, I love reviews – please let me know if you have any thoughts! The next update will be this upcoming Wednesday. And cookies to anyone who catches the _Vampire Diaries_ reference!**

**Also, it's been a little since I took Latin, so if my translation's a little off, let me know :)**

**~ Alexye**


	9. Chapter 8: And by opposing end them

**Thanks for all the story favorites and reviews for the last chapter- I love hearing people's reactions! Please let me know if you have any thoughts on the new chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Anyways, here's the new chapter- I hope everyone enjoys it!**

It was a few days later that the Resorting was actually announced.

It had been a tense few days: Sirius had gone back to classes on Monday, of course, but things with his housemates had been chilly. Sirius was aware that most of his fellow Gryffindors – the purebloods, at least, and some halfbloods – had always viewed him with some suspicion, and that he was only popular due to his friendship with James, scion of one of the greatest Light families. His popularity with the girls, however, had never been higher: Lily had tried to explain to him some muggle concept about bad boys, but he didn't quite get it – not that he was complaining.

But James had yet to say a word about Saturday night and, had Remus not been oddly quiet all week and Snape not turned up to classes with strange whip-like lash on his leg, Sirius could have believed that he had hallucinated the entire incident.

But they had.

Sirius didn't bother saying anything to James either; what was the use, if he'd already made up his mind at this point?

They had come into the Great Hall as one pack, and to any spy they were the familiar band of Marauders without a care in the world. Dinner had just started and the tables were packed. Normally the Hall wasn't this full, but an odd – odd, but not entirely unusual – notice had been posted on the board in the dormitories:

**ALL YEARS:**

**MANDATORY ATTENDANCE AT DINNER**

For once, no one had speculated about the cause for the notice. Hushed voices had followed Sirius constantly throughout the day, but vanished as soon as he turned his head.

_I'll go mad at this rate_, he thought as he walked into the Great Hall. _Mad before they even have a chance to resort me. Then I can just go live the rest of my life in St. Mungo's and I'll never have to deal with James again. _

No one in the group spoke as they sat down to dinner. Peter was the only one to even look at Sirius, but instantly put his head down as soon as Sirius turned his way.

* * *

At last, Dumbledore finally rose from his seat. A deafening silence filled the Hall; one poor bloke had the misfortunate need to sneeze. Dumbledore's imposing stance quieted any laughter.

"As you may have heard by now," Dumbledore said, "the Board has decided that, for the fifth time in Hogwarts history, we will be having a resort. Now, I imagine you all are wondering why I've called you all here-" his eyes swung towards Sirius accusingly, but when Sirius blinked, Dumbledore had resumed his neutral expression. "- as some of you have barely had even a few weeks to get acclimated to your Houses. Unfortunately, however, the School cannot make any distinction between first years and, say, fifth years in cases where the Sorting Hat's decision has been challenged." A deafening pause. "I leave it to Lord Malfoy, Chancellor of the Board, to speak further on the matter."

Lord Malfoy rose with elegant grace and bowed his head slightly, almost mockingly, to Dumbledore in the traditional gesture of respect. "Thank you as always, Headmaster Dumbledore. The Resorting will take place tomorrow; information on times and places will be posted, based on Year, in your dormitories tonight. I feel inclined to… _reassure _everyone, though, that this does not mean you will be moved into a different House, nor that there was a particular case that pushed this move forward. This is merely a routine check of the Sorting Hat's magic to be certain that, after nearly a thousand years, it still judges students soundly and fairly," he said coolly. "Of course, there will be some students who will change their Houses – it can only be expected in young adults that have had some years to grow– but many of you will find that, by dinner tomorrow, you will still be living in the same dormitory surrounded by the same dormmates. Now, I think the Headmaster and I have kept you long enough! Please, return to your meals and your studies." And with that he sat down once again.

Dumbledore's face did not look pleased.

* * *

Lord Malfoy swept into the empty classroom, followed closely by his son and heir Lucius Malfoy. His eyes swept the room expertly; his ancient magic, passed to him through the blood of his ancestors, filled the room for a mere second before settling into a ward that even Dumbledore would be hard-pressed to break without the help of another Lord Malfoy. Finding no hint of a spy, he sat down at the teacher's chair.

"Tell me, Lucius," he said, "what have you heard? Fire is brewing in the House of Black, but what it will become I cannot say yet."

"Father," Lucius said, bowing his head slightly, "Regulus hasn't said a word to the Slytherins. He has, however, been sneaking out at odd moments – probably more than I have witnessed, in all honesty – but acts the same as usual. The Sisters Black have yet to say a word on the matter; I doubt they are any better informed then you or I, or else I would have heard something, at least from Narcissa."

"No, they wouldn't have been told anything… their father still follows the old, _muggle_ beliefs that women are little better then to be raised as cattle and sold to the highest bidder. But, let us turn our minds to other matters as Sirius Black is not the only matter at stake." His eyes met Lucius'. "Thankfully, Lady Black has not been so remiss in her duties. From what I hear, the Sisters Black will be a force to be reckoned with as they grow older. I believe I spy a bit of the Black Gift – what a pity they did not have an heir to inherit it in full, but thankfully Cygnus Black is not the Lord Black – in Bellatrix and, surprisingly, Narcissa."

Lucius seemed startled for a moment, but narrowed his eyes quickly.

Abraxas Malfoy gave the barest hint of a smile in response. "Now, I do not believe I am foolish in stepping back and letting the Lestranges pursue the eldest sister. After Bellatrix comes Andromeda, of course-" Lucius winced "-but I am not quite as interested in her either. Besides, I have heard hints of a marriage with the Selwyns. No, I am more interested in the youngest – and, Lucius, I believe you are as well."

Lucius bowed his head again. "I am at your command, father."

"Of course you are." Abraxas chuckled. "I have had the necessary discussions with Cygnus and Lord Black and, provided the lady in question does not object, your betrothal will be formally announced to Lord Black and the Black family during the upcoming Yuletide and publicly announced when the young lady graduates. In the meantime, I expect you to continue to treat Lady Black with all the respect that her station demands; do not reward my kindness with rumors of some hasty bastards." At that, Lord Malfoy rose from the chair and swept out of the room, only to pause at the doorway.

"And Lucius? I expect to be kept abreast of any changes with regards to the situation involving Sirius Black… and, of course, your mother and I expect that you will still be a Slytherin tomorrow night."

The door shut with a loud clang.

* * *

Sirius had gone to bed quite soon after dinner the previous night. Silence surrounded him everywhere in the dorm, yet whispers followed him around. Luckily, he had already finished his homework for the night: there was something to be said for the lack of a distraction caused by friends.

When he awoke in the morning, it was well before any of his dormmates. For once, the silence didn't come because of his sudden – and, to most Gryffindors, inexplicable – unpopularity. He got dressed quickly, nearly running down the stairs after hearing Remus make a noise in his sleep. The common room was chilly: it was still that awkward transition between fall and winter, too soon for fires but cold enough to long for them.

As he passed through the short hallway leading out of Gryffindor Tower, Sirius noticed that the sign announcing the times for the Resortings had been posted. He had been too tired last night to look at it, but neither had he been willing to single himself out by so visibly checking it.

_Third-Years: 8:05 – 8:55_

_Fourth-Years: 9:05 – 9:55_

_First-Years: 10:05 – 10:55_

_Second-Years: 11:05 – 11:55_

_Sixth-Years: 1:05 – 1:55_

_Seventh-Years: 2:05 – 2:55_

_Fifth-Years: 3:05 – 3:55_

_Please be prompt and wait outside of the Great Hall until the Headmaster calls you in._

Great. So he only had the whole day to get through.

**So… what did everyone think? Sorry for the cliffhanger; I was going to write the resort into this chapter, but I thought it'd be more realistic for there to be an explanation of the resorting and then the chapter ended up being too long with the resort in it. **

**As usual, the next chapter will be posted next Sunday. Let me know what you think about this one! I'd love to hear everyone's opinions!**

**~ Alexye**


	10. Chapter 9: to die, to sleep

**And here's a nice long chapter for everyone! Some new plot twists and maybe a small cliffhanger... enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Thanks for all the story follows and favorites!**

As Sirius walked down the lonely, ever-winding hallways on his way to breakfast, a familiar feeling overcame him. As children, he and Regulus had once wandered off during a family vacation in Italy. They hadn't realized they were lost, of course – they were fascinated with the side alley they had found right outside the house in Venice – but soon a dark shadow had begun to follow them. Both Sirius and Regulus hadn't minded it; after all, they were children, but soon an urge to return home had overcome them. Though they hadn't known how to get back to the unfamiliar house – or even which house was theirs – a feeling, almost like a voice inside their heads, had guided them straight back the door of the house where their mother stood inside waiting. Once inside, Sirius had turned his head for a split second as they ran up the stairs to explore the attic; to this day, he could have sworn he saw a bright flash of green.

Moments later, Orion Black walked in the door.

There had been other attempts to kill the two Black sons afterwards, of course, but neither he nor Regulus had mentioned the attempts to each other. Sometimes, Sirius would spy a figure shadowing him, but the figure would always disappear before he had a chance to see more.

Sirius had never felt that feeling again – at least, until this moment – but had always wondered what had come over him that bright day in Venice. When Bella had cursed him with the Imperious the previous summer, Sirius had felt a similar feeling for a few seconds before his cast off the _Imperio_ that had tried to get him to open the family Grimoire.

He didn't try to throw this feeling off, though, and out of both curiosity and the force of the feeling itself followed it to one of the more unused towers and a comfortable looking door. Sirius pushed the door open automatically and was surprised to see a cozy study room, filled with bookcases and armchairs reminiscent of a Hufflepuff. Not surprising was the familiar figure of his father that perused the bookcase and that turned as he heard the door close.

"Come over here, Sirius," his father said as he placed the book that had been open in his hands back in its place. "How are you feeling?"

"Well." Sirius walked over to the bookcase by the window. The view was pristine: the sun had risen just a bit over the Forbidden Forest, bathing the calm Lake in a clear light that reflected back over the water. Smoke had begun to rise from Hagrid's hut and, in the distance, Sirius could see the white horn of a unicorn, galloping back into the Forest and to safety. It was one of those days that it would be beautiful to die.

Orion turned to face the rising sun with Sirius. "It is glorious, is it not? I used to come to this room all the time as a student, but I see the tower's fallen into some disrepair. It's such a shame that students here fail to see all the opportunities that lay just beyond their fingertips."

Sirius snorted. "But it would be too Slytherin, father, to wander about the castle in search of knowledge. Knowledge these days is for the weak; the brave go looking for adventure."

"Let them look for adventure, then," his father said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "After all, the wise know that the best adventures come through the pursuit of knowledge. But I digress. I believe we have a _geas_ to conduct?"

Sirius turned to face his father and wordlessly held out his hand, only to have his father turn it around.

"This is not an Unbreakable Vow. Hold out your palm, not your hand. Swear only as the magic bids you." Orion placed his hand on top of Sirius'. A pulse shot through their joined palms, and Sirius could see wisps of light start to form around their hands. "Focus on your promise to me, to live and serve the wishes of your House so long as you remain a student at this school."

"_Constringo __nate, __domus __atra __Sirius__, __tertia __nomine __nobilitatis__, et __locutus est ad __me, __pater __et dominus __domi nobilis__._" Orion's voice took on a deep tone."_Se constrinxerit __invoco __venenatis __dictum.__Cogitationis __invoco __obligare __justo__. __Liberare __animus __invoco __justo_." The wisps had become ropes around their hands and started to pierce Sirius's skin. He could feel the tendrils of magic inside him, pushing him to finish the binding.

"_Obligo me __voluntatem __patris mei__."_

He was brought to his knees and blinded by the power that shot through his body.

* * *

When he could at last see, he rose to face his father. Sirius couldn't see the magic anymore, but he could feel tiny shocks of it settling into his body and fading into his heart.

"So." Sirius' voice was raspy, dry. "You have what you wanted."

Orion turned his head, considering his son. "Maybe. Not yet, I think." he said. "But I hardly think that we're done for the day. Besides, it will hardly be easy on you to be a true Black when you still have the thoughts and wishes of a Gryffindor." He drew a small vial from inside his robe and offered it to Sirius. "This will make it easier."

Sirius took it without heisitation and, opening the top, swallowed it quickly. The liquid burned like ice and felt like air as it went down his throat. He met his father's eyes. "What does it do?"

Orion's voice had the slightest hint of surprise in it. "It helps to forget. In this case, taken after that particular _geas_, it will... take away certain parts of your life. You will remember, but it will be as if those memories are from another person, almost like a Penseive. No emotions."

Sirius turned and sat down in one of the armchairs. "When will it take affect?"

"As soon as you go to sleep tonight." His father walked towards the door, but paused as he was about to walk out. "I... you may owl me if you need to speak to me. I do not expect to be back at the castle soon." Sirius didn't lift his head as Orion walked out.

He groaned. He had forgotten to ask how he had come to the room in the first place.

* * *

3 pm came, just not quickly enough for Sirius' comfort. Soon enough, however, the Fifth-Years were lining up outside of the Great Hall, still seperated by house.

At precisely 3:05 pm the doors swung open slowly. The Hall was empty except for a few teachers at the end of it – and, of course, the Sorting Hat. Slowly, the small groups of students migrated towards the teachers. The whispers became quieter and quieter until eventually they died out altogether.

Minerva McGonagall's stern gaze swung through them all like a sword. "Quiet, please. As I read off your name, please step forward and put on the Sorting Hat. We would like to get this done quickly."

A name. A second. Then the inevitable: "Black, Sirius."

The Sorting Hat was plopped onto his head as soon as he sat down. _A new Black, I see. And I suppose you are more receptive to Slytherin this time around then last? Well, though you're in for quite the long road, better be…_ SLYTHERIN!

The silence was deafening.

* * *

The fools! Of course Sirius Black had been among the five or so students resorted. How had they screwed up so badly?

The only reason he had allowed the resorting in the first place – not that he had much of a choice – was to reassure the Gryffindors that Sirius Black had been and remained a true Gryffindor. Of course, they didn't need to know that the Light Side needed to compel him to be such. But James Potter had somehow screwed everything up! He should have acted when Potter began to act out, of course, but he had dismissed at as nothing. Potter may have been a mere boy, but Dumbledore had thought he would at least have the wisdom to follow orders. Dumbledore's anger, however, was quickly checked by the sound of the staircase outside of his office beginning to move. He sat down in his seat before the door opened.

"Lord Black. Whatit is an honor for Hogwarts to host such an illustrious figure as yourself. Lemon drop?"

Orion Black walked over to the chair opposite the Headmaster's desk with an unusual grace. He was not here to bicker with the manipulative old codger, even if said codger thought otherwise. Lazily he looked around the room until he deigned, at last, to settle his eyes on the headmaster. "I have come-"

"To speak about your son. I suspected as much." Lord Black raised an eyebrow at the headmaster's impudence. "I noticed that your son was acting quite strangely today, not withstanding his resort. You might want to check your son for any stray charms he might have been hit with, Lord Black- though of course, that is just a suggestion."

"Of course, Headmaster." Orion Black laughed to himself silently. The headmaster thought he could trap Lord Black into giving up his game, did he? "I find a need to confide in you, Headmaster, that I did check my son for charms this summer, and found one or two strange ones. The origin did track back to Hogwarts, yet I find myself still confused as to the circumstances surrounding them." Orion slowly turned his head to the silly trinkets the muggle-lover kept in his office, careful to keep his tone informal- if cold. "The magic residue left on the charms points to a powerful Light mage… yet I find myself only able to think of two that are able to produce such magic at that level. But, alas, I do not have the ability to trace the spell back to the caster without more information."

His eyes captured Dumbledore's gaze in a heartbeat.

"It would be unfortunate, Headmaster, if I were to investigate the matter further and find out the exact circumstances surrounding the affair. But I came to speak about my son. I am aware he's been in the Hospital Wing quite a lot already, has he not?"

"He has. Though, admirably, he's managed to keep up with all of his work- I have yet to hear complaints from any of his teachers."

"Well, as long as there are no complaints from his teachers, it appears I have less business here then I thought. And as the resorting has proceeded without any issues today, I believe I can be going now."

"Of course, Lord Black. It was a pleasure as always." Dumbledore sat frostily in his chair.

Orion, always the gentleman, gave a small bow and exited the room.

The headmaster strode to the fireplace as soon as Black's boot exited the room.

* * *

"Potter Mansion." Impatience was a fault in Dumbledore, one that he had never truly succeeded in overcoming. Not soon enough for him was it that the famous Potter hair popped up in the ornate fireplace. "Charlus Potter," he began coldly, "it would seem that your son has failed. It appears we have lost control of one Mr. Black. I do not know what games James Potter thinks he is playing, but he will learn not to meddle in our affairs if I have to teach him myself."

The head in the fire faced him calculatingly.

"If the compulsion charms have failed, Dumbledore, then we have few options left to deal with the trash. And we cannot afford to lose control of the boy in this war, Headmaster." A long, torturous pause for the Headmaster.

"I will be at Hogwarts presently to deal with the situation. But rest assured, my Lord, the Potter family will not fail you. I will come immediately to deal with my son myself."

Dumbledore let out a low chuckle.

"No, Potter, you will not. And-" his eyes narrowed- "never forget that control of the Black heir is more important that anything your family, including your precious son, has to offer."

**So what does everyone think? Please, please review- I love reading them!**

**~ Alexye**


	11. Chapter 10: No more and by a sleep

**Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Harry Potter.**

**Sorry about that short wait! AP tests are finally over, so I can get back to work. Thanks for all the new story follows and favorites! And as always- I love reviews!**

Dumbledore's eyes swept the Great Hall as the owls crashed in with the morning mail. Quickly, he picked out the few students that stood out, the few that had had the misfortune to be resorted. Two young second-years had been resorted into Ravenclaw and sat at the far end of the table, unwilling to come further into the sea of blue. A sixth-year had just entered the hall and glanced briefly at the loud, huddled mess of Gryffindors before slowly walking over to the yellow and brown of Hufflepuff House.

And then, of course, there was Sirius Black. Sirius, who had yet to make an appearance at breakfast and, despite being a mere fifth-year, was the subject of so much debate.

He absentmindedly fingered the small vial in his palm before slipping it back into vast confines of his robes. Dumbledore decided to let Charlus Potter prove himself before taking more drastic measures.

* * *

Sirius awoke to the splendid emptiness that was the Slytherin dormitories. The rooms, paid for with donations by some of the wealthiest wizards and witches in the Wizarding World, lacked the overbearing and ostentatious decorations of the red-and-gold Gryffindor dorms. Simplicity reigned supreme; though the most popular color in the dormitories was (unsurprisingly) green, other colors were tastefully scattered throughout.

To his surprise, instead of the vast room that provided no privacy in Gryffindor tower, each floor was instead separated into small, sparsely decorated rooms that exuded a comfortable, homey feel. The space in each room was filled with simple, four-poster bed, a desk, and a dresser. Between all the rooms and the staircase was a common room filled with several bookcases and armchairs scattered throughout.

Sirius found he quite liked the arrangement. Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to admire the arrangement before the clock on the wall informed him he had only several minutes to get to class.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in charming (and immensely boring) house in Cokeworth, England…_

"Petunia, would you fetch Mrs. O'Connelly and I some tea, please?" said Mrs. Evans to her eldest daughter, who promptly walked over to the kitchen. "Isn't she growing into a beauty?" Her proud voice held the silly overtones of every mother.

Jennifer O'Connelly smiled thinly. The potions she fed to Mrs. Evans every afternoon at tea may have kept the doozy housewife under control, but they did nothing to ease the irritable pride the mother had in her daughter. _And what a worthless girl too. Only a filthy Muggle. _

She was careful not to betray her thoughts, however, when the girl returned with the tea. "Thank you, dearie – now be a nice girl and run along while your mummy and I talk," she said to the muggle in a disgustingly sweet voice. It wouldn't do at all to arouse the suspicions of the girl; brewing the potion was hard enough to do for one person!

As soon as Petunia left the room, Jennifer's voice returned to its natural steely authority. "I think you should write a letter to your daughter—"

"-that horrendous child? _Why_ are we talking about her again?" Mrs. Evans' eyes had glazed over as soon as she had sipped the tea, of course, but she could not keep her true feelings from being asserted once in a while.

Jennifer let the woman take another sip of tea before attempting to continue. She was a mere Squib, after all, and could only let the potion take its course. "Your daughter needs some medicine. That horribly drafty castle they keep her in will hardly keep her healthy, and all those nasty concoctions they call magic will probably only make her worse – and you wouldn't want her to infect Petunia with some nasty magical thing, now would you?"

Mrs. Evans' eyes widened fearfully. "Oh, of course not! My poor baby – oh, I knew no good would come of sending that dreadful brat to school!"

"Don't worry yourself. I happen to have just the right… medicine so your daughter won't bring anything unwanted back with her. Now why don't you send them to her?"

The woman looked back at Jennifer and nodded blankly. "The doctor says to take your medicine every day."

* * *

Professor McGonagall looked out over her students with her typical discerning gaze. Gryffindors and Slytherins sat together – though in quiet rebellion, of course – and practiced the ever-useful skill of transforming hats into mufflers and back again. Why Dumbledore insisted on forcing the two houses together in lessons was beyond her; in her opinion, it was hardly helpful to inter-House unity to force to two rivals to compete even in the classroom. _Maybe it would help if the old goose stopped handing out points left and right to my Gryffindors_ the traitorous voice inside her murmured with glee.

It was, of course, her worst class of the day by far: to her increasing astonishment each and every year, James Potter seemed more and more convinced that Severus Snape was the Devil Incarnate and that it was James Potter's sworn duty to eradicate such evil from the Earth. Having had both as students, Minerva thought that it was much more likely that James Potter was the Devil Incarnate.

Her students today, however, seemed to be under the impression that she wasn't going to be quite as tough on them as she normally was. _If only I was allowed to teach them real magic, they wouldn't be so lackluster to learn my art_ she thought bitterly. _If only Dumbledore hadn't decided that muggleborns wouldn't be able to keep up and decided it wasn't fair to them to teach 'real magic'… why, Lily Evans could teach him a thing or two about muggleborns._

As she sat grading her papers, one thing caught her eye. In the back sat Sirius Black – formerly of her house – and before him sat a perfectly transfigured muffler. As she watched, he gracefully swished his wand and transfigured the muffler back into the greying hat. And back again. It was perhaps the first time the pureblood had bothered to do a thing in her class instead of joking around with his fellow disruptive Gryffindors.

"Five points to Slytherin," she said under her breath. "Well done indeed, Mr. Black."

* * *

The student in question returned to the Slytherin dormitories – his dormitory – after dinner and collapsed on his bed with unprecedented relish. He was tired, and in a good way. Sirius had quite enjoyed the challenge of catching up in his classes and found that there was a growing hunger in him to take the challenge and go even further: after all, what fun was it to be number ten or fifteen in a class when one could easily be in the top five? _Hell_, why not be number one in the class?

He turned his head and eyed his book bag thoughtfully. It was fun to think he could be number one in the class, but it would mean a lot of work. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why he thought it had been funny in his first few years at school to goof off during classes. Now it was O.W.L. year and he could barely understand the concepts behind some of the more complex spells.

Sirius sighed mournfully and grabbed at his bag. _Well, no time like the present to get started._

* * *

A loud crash broke his concentration at about – _was it ten already?_ His homework had been done for some time and Sirius was several chapters past the assigned reading for the night into his Charms textbook. As he finished the chapter, another loud crash came. And another.

_Well, I suppose I could take a break now and go see what's going on_…

He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he rose and opened the door to the floor common room. Unlike earlier in the night, it was full: students were sprawled with a casual elegance over the armchairs, while two stood in the center of the room, sparks flying around them. At some unspoken signal, one bowed his head – Mulciber, Sirius noticed – to none other then Sirius' own black-haired cousin Bellatrix. After the clapping had subsided, the group seemed to separate as friends drifted aside to murmur to one another.

"There you are, Sirius! Where've you been?" The overeager voice of Sirius' younger brother caught Sirius off-guard; in his momentary confusion, Regulus took advantage and dragged Sirius over to a very familiar looking group. "We were just about to celebrate Bella's win – you know, family honor upheld and all that – you missed a great one, by the way… Mulciber didn't even stand a chance!"

Bella rolled her eyes and perched herself on the edge of an armchair where both her sisters had already squeezed into. "Regulus, stop tearing your brother's ears off. But… it _was_ a pretty good fight."

Inside of Sirius an unbidden urge to loudly enquire what, _exactly_, he had missed – and who did these Slytherins think they were, blowing things up in dormitories? _Practicing Dark Magic, no doubt…_

But as soon as the urge came he squashed it. Why would Slytherins blow up there own dormitories? _And why would it be so bad to practice Dark Magic…_ whispered a younger voice in his mind.

"What did I miss?" He said to Bella politely as his brother, distracted once again, turned to Malfoy and started to debate one thing or another.

Bella eyed him suspiciously, but Narcissa piped up right away. "Oh, we should have told you! Well, it's a game some of us play; there's normally a match every night and each family picks someone to represent them. The judge – Lucius got picked tonight, of course – chooses some normally harmless spell and the fighters have to show off new ways to use it. The one that comes up with the most ideas wins – and Bella was absolutely _magnificent_!"

"Of course she was – she's related to you, isn't she?" Sirius would have laughed Lucius out of the room for that awful pickup had Malfoy not been so obviously lovestruck. Narcissa blushed furiously and looked down; Bellatrix, on the other hand, could not hide her disgust and rolled her eyes with a sniff. Slowly, the crowd disappeared, and Lucius took the opportunity to offer to walk Narcissa back to her room while Andromeda followed behind to chaperone.

Bellatrix stretched herself out languidly and rose to meet Sirius' height. While her eyes never strayed from watching Sirius', her hand reached into her bag that had been hidden in the armchair from view. Out came a strangely decorated book, whose musty smell betrayed its old age. With a raised eyebrow, she offered it to Sirius.

"Some light reading to pass your time, Cousin," she said innocently and followed her sisters out.

Regulus clapped a hand on Sirius' back. "Let's have breakfast tomorrow. I'll come and get you so you don't miss it this time."

**So… any thoughts? I'm trying not to make Sirius too wild, just a little different. If anyone has any ideas, I'd love to hear them! **

**The next story update will be on Sunday (get ready for a time skip!)**

**~ Alexye**


	12. Chapter 11: to say we end

**Insert disclaimer…. **

**Happy Sunday everyone! As promised, here's the new chapter- enjoy! **

The invitations had been appeared mysteriously that morning on Sirius' pillow.

Awakened by the charm he had cast on the clock, Sirius had gotten up at his usual time and rose quickly to go shower. When he returned, he wouldn't have even noticed the envelope had he not left one of his books by the side of the bed. As he grabbed it to put it back on his desk and was about to turn to leave, the golden cursive caught his eye.

_Sirius Black_ was all that was written on the envelope. The teenager in question blinked in surprise; he hadn't realized that Halloween had arrived already.

It had been over a month since Sirius had been Resorted into Slytherin, and it had passed by in a flick of a wand. For once, Sirius barely had free time: his days were spent studying, going to classes, reading, and hanging out with his vast family. Of course, he also spent time with his yearmates, but he could see the distrust that flicked momentarily in their eyes before they hid it with a too-easy smile.

He didn't blame them.

Though Sirius couldn't remember what had fueled his cruel pranks on the Slytherins, he could remember the "jokes" that bordered on almost all-out warfare. Sirius _couldn't _blame the Slytherins for the accusatory glances that turned towards him whenever the Marauders unleashed a particularly mean prank. Each and every time Sirius felt a sharp pang of shame and the sinking feeling in his stomach of guilt.

And ever since Sirius had been Resorted, the pranks _had_ become meaner. Only last night had Sirius walked into the Slytherin Common Room to find a second-year girl from a well-known Pureblood family clutching a soaking wet bookbag to her side. Bellatrix had gently coaxed the bag from the girl and pulled out book after book ruined with everlasting black ink. The girl's entire side had been hit as well. Bella took the girl up to her room while a girl from Sirius' year – Careyna, Sirius thought her name was – divided up the girl's homework between several older students and went off to find the girl a new bag and set of books.

As Regulus charmed a copy of notes into existence from a particularly studious second year's notes, Sirius had ventured a question. "Why doesn't Bella take the girl to the Hospital Wing?" he said.

Regulus passed over a stack of parchment before answering softly. "If Bellatrix brings her up there, Madame Pomfrey will be obligated to report it to the Headmaster, who will come down and question her about who the bullies were. If she doesn't name them, he'll assume it was the Slytherins and that she's too afraid to say. If she dares to name Potter, well… he'll assume that she's making it up and that it was the Slytherins."

The charm in Sirius' room rung again, reminding him to go to breakfast and jerking him out of the memory. With a sigh, he grabbed the envelope and left for his brother's room.

* * *

The Halloween Ball had been a tradition for as long as anyone could remember (that is, someone had decided that there was a need for an excuse for students to get drunk in a wild party on Halloween night and "rediscovered" tales of the ancient Ball in a "mysterious and old tome from a hidden section in the Hogwarts Library" some ten or twenty years back). Invitations arrived the day of to a certain group of students with the year's theme and directions on how to find the Ball.

Since costumes had to fit the theme, it was impossible to find any ahead of time. One year, some smart-asses had decided that they'd find costumes ahead of time anyways and show up in those; they'd been blasted out of the doorway by some unknown and unbreakable charm.

No one knew who planned the Ball or how they sent out the invitations (it was a not-so-secret group of Hufflepuffs and their loyal allies, the House Elves). It was a huge competition to find a way to sneak out of the dorm at eleven, evade the teachers (who were drunk and didn't care anyways), and transform clothes into an acceptable and outlandish costume in time (for the boys at least; most girls just brought fabric from home and created some spectacular costumes with one or two charms and a transfiguration).

There was one rule, and one rule only: everyone must be masked. You wouldn't know who was a Gryffindor or who was a Slytherin; was that your ex-boyfriend or your secret crush? The Ball promised a night of mysteries and never failed to deliver.

Most students were invited starting their third or fourth year. This year would be Narcissa's first and, like most girls her age, she was very excited to prove to everyone how grown-up she was.

* * *

The Black Sisters had converged in the Slytherin Sixth Year Girls' Common Room and were surrounded by bits and pieces of fabrics of every color. This year's theme was Greek Myths, and Bellatrix had decided quite firmly that her little sister was going as none other than the Goddess of Love and Beauty, Aphrodite. Bella herself was going as the fierce Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and War. To her sisters' surprise, Andromeda chose to go as Artemis.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes in confusion while her younger sister transfigured a robe into a simple silver tunic, but decided to indulge her sister's strange whims. "Who are you going as, Careyna?" she said to one of the other girls in the room.

Careyna, who had been busy fixing her elaborately embroidered tunic, startled and looked up. "Oh, I'm going as Eurydice – I always loved her story!"

Narcissa turned her wide eyes to Careyna. "But isn't that a tragedy?"

She sighed. "But what romance… can you imagine having a man so in love with you that he'd walk all the way to Death for you?"

* * *

The Ball that night was being held in an abandoned section of the third floor. Sirius had never ventured over to this side of the floor, but the directions had clearly led to the door that stood at the end of the corridor. The teenagers, led by Lucius Malfoy in his bloodstained armor, paused for only a second before walking forward. Sirius could hear the laughs and giggles of other students not far behind.

As they walked through the door, he could feel the tickle of a charm before the obligatory mask settled on his face. The room had been transformed into a dimly lit wood and, as usual, Sirius couldn't tell who was who behind the masks as the teenagers danced wildly to the beat of the animalistic music.

He was pulled into it before he had a chance to blink.

* * *

As the clock struck four, a girl bid goodbye to her friends and left the room with an unregretful sigh. Yes, the party would keep going for quite some time, but she was tired and there would be others. She smiled as she fingered the embroidery on her tunic. It had been a wild night indeed.

She headed down one of the staircases in an unhurried walk. It was fun to see the castle at this hour, with no students – for once – out and about in the early morning and no teachers patrolling. She rounded an unfamiliar corridor and paused for a second. There was an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, but she chalked it up to the fact that she was in one of the older parts of the castle.

Yes, that was it. There was nothing to worry about – she'd find her way back soon enough. This was the way they'd come, wasn't it?

An arm snaked out of the darkness suddenly and grabbed her. "Are you lost, pretty?" said a voice. Suddenly, a boy dressed in Greek armor stepped out from a doorway. "I can help you get back… or maybe we can just stay here and party by ourselves. It's more fun when it's just the two of us."

She felt like her heart was about to burst. "Oh, I'm just going back to my dormitory… my friends are waiting for me."

He laughed, but it lacked any warmth. "I don't think they'll miss you. You left them upstairs, remember?" he said. "And don't you remember me? We were flirting all night. You liked my Jason costume a lot."

His face was still covered by most of the mask and his body was covered by the flashy polished armor. His costume provided no clue as to who he was; the only hint she had was the wild, blackish-brown hair.

He used his other arm to pull her towards him. "Now, how about we have some fun-"

"Julie! There you are!" A girl was racing down the corridor towards them. Her name wasn't Julie but it didn't matter; the boy was confused and she pulled away quickly.

The other girl quickly came to a stop. "Julie! There you are! Tom and I were just looking for you." Behind her was a taller boy who she hadn't noticed until then.

The boy behind them – Jason – chuckled. "Well, I suppose you want to play too… Helen? You look like a Helen tonight."

The new girl gave him a flirtatious wink and laughed. "Well, aren't you smart? I guess we could come back and play"- her heart started beating wildly- "right after we get Tom here back to his dorm. You stay right here and we'll be back in a few."

Before the boy in armor could answer, the girl pulled her and the other boy away and hurried down the corridor. Before she could catch her breath, the taller pulled them into a hidden corridor and out into one of the upper dungeon floors.

She collapsed against the wall. Wordlessly, the girl pulled her into a hug. She couldn't stop shaking; she felt so _weak_.

"I should get her back to her dorm. Where are you going?" said the boy.

"I'm going back up to Gryffindor tower." said the girl. "Where are you headed?" she asked her.

Slowly, the girl pulled herself off the wall and dried her tears; she hadn't even noticed she was crying before now. "I was- I'm going to Slytherin."

"Great," said the boy. "I can take you down. Will you be fine going back to Gryffindor on your own, or would you like me to come with you?"

The other girl didn't protest as she pulled out of the hug. "I can go back up on my own. I don't think you'd be welcome there anyways. I'd better get going though before more drunk idiots start wondering the hallways." Without another word she disappeared down the corridor.

The boy shook his head. "I don't even know her name," he said. They began to walk back to the Slytherin dormitories. "Are you alright, though?"

"Just my wounded pride." _And scared. So scared._ "How did you even find me?" _Don't see that I'm crying, please please please._

"I didn't. I was leaving the party when she grabbed me and told me to follow her; that one of her housemates was about to do something stupid and that I needed to help stop it. She was the one that pulled me down that corridor- I'd never have remembered it otherwise. I think I've been down there before maybe once before."

Before she knew it, they were back in front of the portrait. "Thank you," she said.

He motioned for her to go through first as the portrait swung open. "Of course. Are you sure you're fine, though? Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing?"

She walked through. "And report that I've been drinking? No, I'll be fine." She turned to go up the stairs but paused midway.

Before her, the mask on the boy's face disappeared into the air, and she could feel the open air on her face as well. "Thank you, Sirius," said Careyna Rosier, and walked away.

* * *

The girl did not return to Gryffindor Tower; instead, she returned to the corridor where a teenager dressed as the Greek hero Jason stood waiting for more girls to pass through. Wordlessly, she sent a red bolt towards him and he collapsed instantly.

"That's for Careyna, you pig." Her voice was barely a murmur. She walked forward and opened the door behind him, pushing him in. Between the alcohol and the stunner, he wouldn't wake up until morning. In a fluid motion, she reached forward and pulled off the mask off of James Potter. _Let's hope some teacher finds you. _"And why would you assume Helen? It's Ariadne."

She closed the door behind her without a backwards glance and returned to Gryffindor Tower.

**What did everyone think? I'd love to hear thoughts in reviews. It was a bit of a weird chapter for me to write so I'd love feedback!**

**Next chapter will be up Wednesday.**

**~ Alexye**


	13. Chapter 12: The Heart-ache

**Usual disclaimer…**

**So! Another new chapter and another small time skip (that's how the next few chapters are going to be) – let me know what you think!**

**Thanks for the reviews, the favorites, and the follows! They make me so happy :)**

Sirius didn't see Careyna the next day. Or the next. Or the Tuesday after that.

Well, he saw her, but it was always in class, or a brief glimpse of her in the hallway. Catching sight of her ponytail swinging as she left the Great Hall. He'd turn his head for a second and she was there, but always out of reach.

He didn't try and seek her out… if one didn't count how he'd try and race out of class, or how he'd speed up in the hallway. But he was always, _always_ too far behind.

And he didn't actively try and find out things about her. If the book on Pureblood Genealogy happened to have a chapter on the Rosiers, was he supposed to ignore it? If his cousins happened to be gossiping about the eligible Evan Rosier – "second in all of his classes and a _very_ protective older brother, how sweet…" – was he supposed to not listen to only that?

Yes, Sirius Black III was a man in love. And, like all men in love, he didn't quite know it yet.

* * *

"Do you think he's realized yet?"

"What? With the puppy dog stare? Not a chance," said Bella to her younger cousin as they sat in the common room studying with Sirius. Sirius had a book open on his lap, yet had failed to turn a single page for quite some time. His gaze was fixed quite obviously on a dark-haired girl in the corner of the room.

"Did you see how he perked up when we mentioned Evan?" said Narcissa as she finished up her Charms homework.

"You mean when you started shouting about Rosier just to prove a point?"

"Well, I was right, wasn't I? Sirius came over right away to 'just to spend some quality time with his cousins'".

"But do you think Father will allow it?" said Regulus, not bothering to look up from his Transfiguration notes.

"I don't know," said Bella in a more contemplative tone. "I know our father has opened up marriage negotiations for Andromeda and Evan. I doubt Lord Black will want to squander his eldest son and heir when he could marry him to another family and gain another alliance."

"Well, it's just a crush. Nothing more." said Narcissa. She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself most of all. By an unspoken but mutual agreement, they all stopped talking about Sirius after that.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in one of the various broom closets in Hogwarts…_

"Shush!" said a girl as the boy pulled her in for a kiss. "I hear someone!"

He laughed, but quietly. "You're so paranoid sometimes. It's adorable." He pulled her in for another kiss, but she pulled away again to listen.

Finally, she was satisfied no one was around to hear them. "You don't understand. If my family finds out, you'll be dead and I'll be married off in seconds."

"No one's going to marry you off while I'm around." Yet his eyes weren't playful as he hugged her.

"I'm serious. If you're serious about me, we've got to start planning for the future. Our future." The worried face of Andromeda Black was lit only by the sliver of light that shone through a solitary crack in the door. "I love you, Ted. And I don't intend to let my family stop me from loving you."

* * *

"And so the 'Golden Age of Gloriana' as Muggles called it actually resulted a mass exodus…"

History of Magic was the only class that Sirius didn't pay attention in now. Well, he paid attention to his history book. He'd found that the class was a good time to catch up on reading. Currently he was on Machiavelli's _The Prince_ and couldn't help but wonder if his father had used the book as a how-to guide on how to be a parent.

"… and for the next group, Mister Black, well let's see here-" Binns' voice shocked Sirius upright. He almost dropped his book in surprise; had Binns actually noticed he'd been reading the whole time?

"-yes, Mister Black and Miss Rosier, you'll be a group… now, Mister Tonks, you'll be with…" Sirius' head swung around immediately to the desk where Careyna sat, but she wasn't there. Around him, students were gathering their books to leave.

Suddenly something fell on Sirius' desk, and he looked to his right to find the girl he'd been looking for. She smiled as she opened up her bookbag.

"I hope you don't mind, but I got our assignment- there wasn't much left in the hat. We got the War of 1455."

Sirius decided to play it cool and pretend he knew what she was going on about. "Right, well, that should be easy enough. I love that time period, you know."

She nodded in hidden amusement. "Well, it's not due for another two months, but I'd love to get started now so we don't have to work a bunch at the last minute-"

"Definitely! Um, where do you want to meet? The Library, the Common Room, wherever you want to go is totally fine with me." said Sirius in the nervous voice familiar to many love-struck teenagers.

"I was thinking maybe we could start out in the Library, but since you already know about the topic, do you want to grab some of the books and meet down in the Common Room? You must know all of the good ones!" said Careyna enthusiastically. "So I guess I'll see you at eight?"

"Sounds good," said Sirius, and left immediately to start reading up on the War of 1455.

* * *

It had been over a month into the project, and Sirius and Careyna were nearly done with their research. Sirius didn't doubt that they'd receive an "O" – actually, to be completely truthful, they probably could have stopped two weeks ago and still received an "O" – but why give up the time with Careyna? They didn't spend most of their time on research anyways; most days, they'd meet up just to study together or even simply hang out. Sometimes she'd bring a book she thought he'd like.

They hadn't planned to meet today – Careyna had said she had something to work on – so Sirius had decided to go study in the room they'd discovered on the Seventh Floor. It was an odd room, one of the more unusual in Hogwarts, and it had taken some time before they could figure out how it worked. Eventually, they'd discovered that the trick was to walk back and forth three times while thinking about what they needed.

The best part was, Sirius knew Potter didn't have the room on his map.

_I need to get the study room… I need to get to the study room… I need to get to the study room…_

The door appeared almost instantaneously. As Sirius opened it, he looked through his bag for his Transfiguration book. _I know I put it in here… and my paper too-_

The loud clash of something hitting the floor jolted him. Before him stood an ashen faced Careyna; she slowly lifted her wand up towards him.

She couldn't hide what she'd been doing. The Dark Magic that he'd known his whole life buzzed in the air surrounding them; the very walls thrummed with power. A wooden dummy – the source of the loud clash, Sirius surmised – lay on the floor in pieces.

Slowly, he closed the door behind him. "Lock the door," he asked to the Room. "Don't let anyone in." Careyna let her hand drop warily.

"You aren't running to Dumbledore," she said at last.

"No." His own tone was quiet, wary.

"I was about to Stun you. Probably Obliviate you." she said, as if she were commenting on the weather or a person's outfit.

"You should." His response surprised even him.

"Maybe." She eyed him cautiously. "Maybe not. You can feel It, can't you?"

He refused to respond.

"Don't be afraid to admit it. We all feel It; I suppose Light Wizards feel the same, just with Light Magic, though I've never thought to ask. Did you ever feel Light Magic around you?"

He shook his head, afraid to admit what he didn't even know.

"It suffocates me. Constantly. It's not warm or pleasant like our – like my magic. The whole castle reeks of it; if I didn't have the dungeons, I don't know how'd I stay here." She walked towards Sirius and stopped when they stood only a few inches apart. Slowly, she took his right hand in hers and lifted it up as if to contemplate its very existence. "Now, should I Stun you, make you forget this ever took place?" She traced his palm with a light finger.

"No," said Sirius in the barest of whispers. Her eyes shot up to meet his. "No. I want to see it. I want to _feel _it." She bowed her head.

"As you wish. Close your eyes." Her hand gave a gentle flick at her side with her wand. "_Fluentis_."

The Dark Magic overwhelmed him this time; it wasn't the remnants of a spell, after all, but Magic fully formed and surrounding him. Sirius felt it. For the first time in his life he saw the beauty he'd been blind to; the raw, elemental power that sung around him, sought him. And oh! How he longed to answer! The magic seemed to seep around his entire body, as if to drown him in it. But he didn't feel wet. He couldn't reach out, he couldn't answer, and slowly it fizzled away, leaving him feeling just the tiniest bit lost. Something inside him protested his enjoyment, but Sirius was becoming better at silencing that voice. He remembered he'd felt that way before, before all of this, but why? It was beautiful.

It was _right_.

Sirius opened his eyes.

She was smiling; not beaming, but the smile of someone truly happy. "It feels good, doesn't it?" Her smile faded as she noticed that Sirius had sad look in his eyes. "You can't reach it, can you?"

Sirius shook his head and shifted his jaw. "There's something wrong with me, isn't there."

"I… I don't know. I've always been able to reach it. Could you reach the Light Magic, when you were-"

"-When I was in Gryffindor? No. I never heard it. I never heard this Magic either, until now." he said. "Can it be fixed?"

"Well… well, theoretically yes. But I don't think you'll enjoy the answer."

"I'll do anything."

Careyna's eyes softened. "It's the Lord of the House's duty to teach the children the magic. That's as much as I know; Lord Rosier taught me when the summer after my First Year at Hogwarts."

"I'll have to talk to my father, you mean." Sirius closed his eyes and let out a laugh. "I think he tried to teach me, you know. But I refused to talk to him the summer after my First Year here; I was too caught up in rebelling against my parents and my family. I wanted to fit in even if I didn't fit." He took a deep breath. "But enough about this. We- I can't fix it right now." He lifted the Transfiguration book out of his bag as a question. "Have you started the essay?"

**So… what did everyone think? As usual, I love reviews (please, please let me know what you think – if you only want to say a few words, that's totally fine!)**

**The next update will be next Wednesday. Unfortunately, I have my championship race this weekend so I'm going to be a little (very) busy, but I promise the next chapter will be very big and very awesome!**

**Also, let me know if there's anything in particular you'd like me to focus more on!**

**~ Alexye**


	14. Chapter 13: and the thousand

**I don't own Harry Potter and I'm not making money off of this (though that would be really, really cool).**

**Another Wednesday and another chapter! I hope everyone enjoys!**

"… _Hark the herald angels sing… glory to the newborn king…"_

The bells and voices of carolers filled the street of Grimmuald Place, London. Christmas was once again upon the citizens of the small street, and as children ran to and fro and harried parents hurried home with last minute presents, no one noticed as two young men walked carefully to the middle of the street and disappear.

The inhabitants of Grimmuald Place had long ago accepted that, for whatever strange reason, the builders of the street had forgotten to put in a Number 12 between Number 11 and Number 13. Obviously that was the case: it wasn't like houses simply disappeared, after all. Some of the older generation that still lived on the street swore up and down that there had, in fact, been a Number 12, but they were simply getting old; after all, even the city plans hadn't put a Number 12 in the street, and some of the more conspiracy-minded folk on the street had _checked_.

Had one of the parents happened to see the young men on the street, a very funny thing would have occurred. It wasn't that the young men would just disappear; no, something would distract the parent. A child, maybe, or a light. They'd glance away for a second and (if they bothered to look back) their eyes for glaze over for a brief moment and forget the thing entirely.

* * *

As Sirius and Regulus walked up the street to 12 Grimmuald Place, the familiar bricks of their ancestral home expanded into view. Lights twinkled merrily in the narrow windows, and the shadows of guests only hinted at the party going on inside.

"Come on, Regulus, we're already late!" Sirius hurried up the final steps and pushed the door open cautiously before heading in. He'd barely gotten in a few steps before something launched itself at him; Sirius felt a sharp _pull_ on his stomach as the view of his room suddenly materialized before him. Before he could even blink, Kreacher had already marched over to his wardrobe and violently pulled down several items of clothing.

"Bad young Master… always sneaking out and breaking my poor mistress's heart… so rude and so dirty, oh what will Kreacher do!" Sirius could have sworn he heard a dry sob as the house elf threw a robe at him and marched over with Sirius' shoes. "Mistress says get dressed and get down." He plopped the shoes down and popped right out of Sirius' room again.

Sirius sighed and began to get dressed. He'd only be at home for a few days and Kreacher had yet to relent. Yes, Sirius admitted he'd treated the house elf awfully the last few years, but did Kreacher really have to literally drag him from one end of the house to the other?

As he shrugged on the robe, he heard footsteps behind him.

"What, Kreacher didn't drag you up too? How is that fair?"

"Kreacher trusts me to get dressed," said Regulus as he walked over to Sirius' bookshelf and eyed one of the books. "Besides, I'm not the heir to the House of Black – who cares if someone sees me out and about in 'dirty Muggle clothes'?" Sirius didn't have to look at his brother to know that he was smirking.

Sirius didn't respond, though; he was too busy fumbling with the ties on his robe. He'd never bothered to learn how to tie them – after all, what better way to piss off his parents then to find every single way to rebel?

"It goes under and around, not through."

"What?" It took him a moment to process, but then he finally got the robe closed properly. He turned around to where his brother stood.

Regulus glanced up with a nonchalant air. "You look good. This isn't for a certain brunette, is it?"

Sirius merely smirked in response and walked out of the room to go to the party. It wasn't actually – _maybe a small lie_ – but it was better to endure his brother's teasing than admit that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to impress his parents a little.

* * *

The party was in full swing when Sirius and Regulus finally found their way downstairs. In the grand living room of 12 Grimmuald Place, witches and wizards filled every corner. Above their heads, candles floated and flickered softly. For all the light, there was still plenty of dark corners where people could find areas to talk unseen.

The outfits were, as always, quite elaborate. While tradition dictated that wizards were dressed in robes of darker colors, many had elaborate embroidery that twisted and turned in intricate designs on the robes. On battle robes, these shapes would have been runes meant to protect the wearer; in the festive air of Yule, however, these shapes were merely ornamental in design.

Witches didn't wear robes at all; instead, they wore gowns of any color. Thankfully, the voluminous ball gowns had gone out of style ten or so years ago- now, though the skirts were still quite poofy and hard to maneuver, at least the witches could move through doorways without the help of magic.

"Regulus! How handsome you look!" cooed one of the older witches. Sirius took the opportunity and, leaving his brother to their nonexistent mercy, slipped past into one of the side rooms.

The smell of holly and fire was less overpowering in the room, one of those set aside for smaller groups. No one was supposed to be in here, so Sirius shut the door behind him; he'd leave in a minute or two and hope the witches had moved on by then.

Suddenly, a floorboard creaked behind him and Sirius was acutely aware that he was not alone. The hair on his neck stood up painfully, but Sirius took a deep breath and slowly turned around. His hand slipped into his pocket and fingered his wand softly.

A figure that Sirius hadn't noticed before stood in the corner of the window. She turned her head as if surprised, but when she saw Sirius she relaxed and smiled brilliantly at him.

"Oh, it's just you Sirius," said the beautiful Mrs. Potter. She held a crystal goblet in one hand elegantly and took a small sip before speaking again. "It seems like it's been so long since I last saw you. Won't you come over and talk for a few minutes?"

Sirius forced himself to walk calmly over to the window. For some reason, his heart beat unnaturally fast – but he'd talked to Mrs. Potter before and she was harmless. He was being paranoid.

Mrs. Potter was truly a gorgeous woman. Though she was one of the older mothers at Hogwarts, she still retained the figure of a teenager. Her hair was a natural blonde that most girls in Sirius' class used magic to achieve, and her face was free from any of the heavy makeup so popular among pureblood ladies. It was easy to see why she had had so many suitors as a young girl.

If there was one fault about her, Sirius decided as he finally made it to the window, it was her perfume. He'd never noticed it before – maybe it was new? – but it was heavy and ugly and Sirius, trying not to be rude, did his best to hold in his desire to cough and wheeze.

"I know you and James got into a little fight in school, but don't worry, I'm not angry about it," said Mrs. Potter, mistaking Sirius' unwillingness to get closer. "Boys will be boys! I'm sure you'll be friends again in no time. But tell me, how's school going?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "I heard that you've actually started studying! Now if you could just pass that onto James, I'd be so grateful. But-" and here her hand reached out to Sirius' shoulder as if to comfort him – "I heard you got resorted into Slytherin! How dreadful! You must miss your friends dreadfully. And being down in those cold dungeons, how yucky."

The lies came to Sirius with a newfound easiness. "Oh of course, but I'm making the best of it. I was so surprised when the hat resorted me into Slytherin."

Mrs. Potter nodded in agreement. "I've never thought you were a Slytherin; you're too good to be one of them. I'm sure it's horrible with them practicing Dark Magic down there too!"

Sirius made a noncommittal noise.

Her eyes widened. "They practice Dark Magic in front of you? Oh, you must tell Dumbledore at once!"

"Oh, but I'm so afraid Dumbledore will think I'm practicing it too. And I'm so afraid of what they'll do to me." Sirius forced terror into his eyes. Where was this going?

Mrs. Potter nodded sadly. "Well, perhaps I can tell you something that'll cheer you up." She lowered her voice. "It's top secret – so no telling anyone – but Charlus (Mr. Potter, that is) has been working on a project with a few of the people in the Ministry. I'm sure it's far too much for you to understand – goodness knows I didn't understand a word when Charlus tried to explain it to me – but all you need to know is that they've figured out a way to block children from practicing Dark Magic. The temptation's far too much, I'm sure you know, and once they stop the children everyone'll be free from that horrid evil in a generation or two." She looked deeply into Sirius' eyes. "Doesn't that sound good?"

Suddenly, it wasn't a lie anymore; the voice Sirius had been trying so hard to deny surged to the front of his mind with a vengeance. He didn't, couldn't deny it. "Of course, Mrs. Potter."

The door to the room flew open with a sharp clang: there stood Bellatrix. "Sirius, there you are." Her voice couldn't have sounded less enthusiastic. "Your father wants you."

Mrs. Potter squeezed Sirius' shoulder one last time. "Well, I guess I'd better go. Remember, Sirius, it's a secret!" She whispered it, but Sirius could tell Bellatrix could hear it anyways – though she didn't give it away to Lady Potter.

Mrs. Potter was barely out of the room before Bellatrix slammed the door shut. "Sirius, what _was_ that?" She started to hurry towards him. Why, Sirius couldn't say; he himself had lost all feeling. His mind, his body- everything was going numb, unfeeling.

When he fell to the floor, he didn't feel a thing. Everything was floating in his mind; the last thing he heard was Bellatrix talking to Kreacher – worriedly? That couldn't be right – and the sharp tug of the house elf's apparition before he blacked out.

**Well, I didn't mean to leave everyone with a cliffhanger, but this chapter was getting to long to put in the next scene. So, guess everyone'll have to wait until Wednesday :)**

**On a more serious note, I have a question to ask everyone:**

**Do you want me to write a few more chapters about Hogwarts, or should I do a time skip to Sirius' graduation (and all the juicy stuff)?**

**Please, please let me know in reviews! Because of the way this chapter ended, any time skips wouldn't take place until the chapter after next. Let me know what you think!**

**Next update will be next Wednesday (sorry, but I'm graduating this Sunday – so no time to update then!)**

**~ Alexye**


	15. Chapter 14: Natural shocks

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

**First, I just want to say how very sorry I am that this took so long to write. I've been trying to figure out where to take this story and there just hasn't been any time to write it. **

**BUT! Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. It meant so much to me and I hope you guys love this chapter! If there's any confusion, please let me know and I will hopefully clear it up in the next chapter (there's a big concept that's supposed to go over Sirius' head a bit). As always though, please feel free to review!**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

"Are all the guests gone?"

"Malfoy and his son just left. Lucius wanted to say goodbye to Narcissa."

"And the Lestranges?"

"They left before Malfoy. Lord Lestrange nearly fell down the stairs on his way out… I've never seen someone drink so much."

"Isn't his wife the one sleeping with the uncle? I'd drink from that too." This voice was new and, like the others, had the high pitch of a girl. Narcissa, maybe? Sirius blinked as he awoke to darkness. The light that seeped in from under the doorway let him know at least that he was in his room at 12 Grimmuald Place. "When are they going to announce your betrothal, Andromeda?" said Narcissa. "Wasn't that supposed to happen tonight?"

"No, father decided against announcing it tonight." Andromeda's tone seemed a little happy to Sirius as he lay on his bed, his eyes searching out the dark as he eavesdropped on his cousins.

"Oh. Did father say why?"

Whatever Andromeda's response was was interrupted by the footsteps on the stairs. "Is he awake?" said Walburga Black. Her voice, though muffled, carried through the door easily.

"I don't believe so." Bellatrix's voice, usually proud, was subdued in the fearsome presence of her aunt.

Walburga sighed. "Then I will check. You girls must be exhausted given the time. I will let you young ladies go off to bed."

Narcissa let out a little noise as if to protest, but Bellatrix and Andromeda got the hint. From Narcissa's small yelp, Sirius surmised Bella had probably kicked her.

"Thank you, Aunt Walburga. We all hope Sirius is okay." said Bellatrix. The sound of their footsteps grew fainter as they left. After the sound disappeared, Walburga opened the door softly and sat down on the side of the bed.

* * *

"Asleep indeed. Did you hear anything interesting?" Most mothers would have teased their sons; Walburga's tone made it very clear that that was not the case. Sirius turned his head to look at her and raised an eyebrow. "Those girls have too much time on their hands. When I was their age…" Walburga said in annoyance, and then pushed back Sirius' hair with one hand to feel his forehead and pulled it back in an instant. "You're burning up – why didn't you say anything?"

Sirius didn't feel like he was burning; in fact, it was the opposite. As soon as his mother's hand had touched him, he started to feel a distinct cold in his toes. It wasn't the chills of a fever that could be easily cured by one potion or another, but rather, it felt like his toes had frozen solid.

Yet in a second it was gone.

Walburga waved her wand and muttered under her breath. Steam rose from Sirius' forehead to twist themselves into numbers. "Thirty-six degrees. My hand must have been warm…"

"It wasn't." The low voice of Orion Black, Lord of the House of Black, came from the doorway of Sirius' bedroom. Walburga rose to her feet in a second. For a few seconds, they stared at each other. Finally Walburga started.

"I see…" she said as she turned to Sirius. Sirius' mother lowered her head to give Sirius a kiss on the forehead, as if to bid him good night. "I'll leave you to talk to him, then." She was gone just a few seconds later.

Orion chose to sit in an armchair across from Sirius' bed. Sirius lifted himself up into a sitting position to see his father and found that even that small movement left his muscles gasping.

"I wasn't aware I had invited the lovely Mrs. Potter to our party this evening," said Orion at last.

Sirius met his father's calculating look. "I didn't invite her, if that's what you're implying."

"I know you didn't. The binding would not have let you, especially given the reason why she came. But I still wonder how she got in… did you see anything when you went in that room? Any floo powder, perhaps?"

"No. I don't think- I don't think so, but I can't remember exactly. I don't think I realized she was in the room at first. But I didn't smell floo powder."

Orion leaned forward. "Are you sure there wasn't anything else? A flask of polyjuice, perhaps?"

"No. She was drinking something, but it was light like… like champagne," said Sirius. "It was cold when I went into the room, though. When I went over to her though, the windows were all closed.

"Ah." Orion sat back and Sirius had the distinct feeling he'd revealed something important even though he couldn't figure out what himself. "I see. Kreacher?" The house elf appeared with a pop. "Please see to it that all the windows are barred for the day. You may open them again later; I'll let you know when." With a snap of Kreacher's fingers, Sirius' windows clanged shut. Kreacher gave a small bow and disappeared. Throughout the house, Sirius could hear muffled clangs and – in one room – a muffled yelp.

Orion turned back to Sirius. "Thank you. That was helpful."

The silence annoyed Sirius more then ever. That wasn't why his father was in the room; why didn't he just ask about _it_? But as he thought that the voice appeared in his head again – _don't tell him don't tell him don't tell him_ – the voice was a dull pain in his skull, banging and banging and banging and –

Sirius had even realized he was shaking his head back and forth, again and again, until he felt his father's cool hands on his head, holding him in place. As soon as his father's fingers touched his head, the voice seemed to melt away into nothing and so too did Sirius melt into his father's hands. The voice had been gone for so long; why couldn't he escape it? He was supposed to be strong, soon he'd be gone from Hogwarts – nearly and adult – and here he was, sobbing like a child from some a _headache_.

"Sirius, you don't need to tell me."

Suddenly the pain disappeared from his head and his muscles relaxed into the bed. His mind had cleared.

He opened his eyes and saw his father.

Orion answered his questioning eyes. "I can guess what happened, Sirius."

The pain exploded in his head, worse then before. He could only see blackness as the fire spread through his body, the pain swift and deadly. As his body flailed about hopelessly trying to get rid of the pain, his father moved quickly. Holding Sirius down with one hand, he tore his wand from his pocket and uttered a few words. Instantly, Sirius was paralyzed, the pain dulled to a weak but persistent thump in the back of his head.

He was still blind, but Sirius couldn't tell if his eyes were even open or if it was because of the spell.

"There. That should last until after I explain it all." Sirius could tell his father was still sitting on the bed; Orion shifted his weight for a second before continuing. "Since you arrived at Hogwarts your first year, you have been placed under some compulsion spells. Although I cannot tell what the exact nature of the intent is, I can guess what they aimed to do. I deeply regret that it took me so long to see what had happened." He cleared his throat. "I first began to suspect something was wrong only this past fall, but to explain how, I must explain something that is normally only told once a child has become a parent themselves."

"In Pureblood families, Magical Affinity is a trait passed down to most children. In the old days, families used to specialize in certain branches of magic. As their specialties developed, so too did the family's magic. Soon, the world's magic developed into three distinct branches: Dark, Neutral, and Light," said Orion. "The branch of magic these families had practiced for generations came easier to their children; soon, most practiced that branch exclusively."

His father took a deep breath before continuing. "But with the rise of Grindelwald came a hatred for Dark Magic. Families that practiced that magic were soon demonized as evil, as murderers; some families gave up the Dark altogether and so some magic was lost forever."

"And now we come to you. Your first year, as you were sorted into Gryffindor, I believed that you hadn't inherited our affinity. That what I had taken for a child's rebellion was actually your true affinity showing itself. That for the first time, the heir to the House of Black would fail to carry on our legacy, fail to teach his children the spells we had developed and grown over generations and generations."

"I though myself a failure as father."

"Normally, children show their affinity – an aura, if you will – about their fourth or fifth years at Hogwarts. And when you started to project your magic this summer, I expected to see it as Neutral, maybe even Light." Orion stood up; Sirius could hear his footsteps as he walked over to the window. "But it wasn't. It was Dark, and I had hope once again."

"I missed the signs completely in my happiness. Yes, your affinity was Dark, but it was muffled, strangled by the compulsion spells placed on you. When you agreed to the binding, our agreement overcame the compulsion spells temporarily, and so the Sorting Hat put you in Slytherin."

A noise popped into existence. "Ah, you have the potion, Kreacher. Thank you. You may attend to your Mistress now."

There were a few indistinct noises before Orion began to speak again. "But your magic started to fight against itself. You had been under compulsion charms for nearly five years, and your magic – though naturally Dark – had begun the shift towards Light," said Orion. "As you began to become immersed in the Dark, surrounded by other Dark families, your magic fought more and more. And while you can't practice Dark, you wouldn't be able to practice Light."

"Perhaps they thought they'd be able to turn you. Had this continued, it might have."

"Since you have been under their power from so long, the compulsion charms will only fade by the time you leave Hogwarts. It is too late to break them; the damage is done. Had the compulsion charms continued until you left, you would have never been able to tap into the power your natural affinity gives you. Even if you practiced Light magic, you would have lacked raw power behind any spell."

"The binding prevented that from happening, but only barely. But while your magical power will survive – it might even grow stronger from these attacks – your magic will destroy you as it battles between the binding and the power of the compulsion charms. Both will break only when you graduate from Hogwarts."

As his father's words sunk in, Sirius faced the awful truth of his predicament.

The awful truth that Mrs. Potter had so casually revealed to him earlier that night.

He tried to reach for his voice. It hurt, but he could manage. "That's their plan… that's what-"

His father cut him off. "Don't hurt yourself further. I already know their plan. We all know their plan-"

"-you can't let them do it!"

"Do not concern yourself; they won't succeed. Our main worry right now is you." said Orion. "It will do no good to take you out of Hogwarts: the binding will only break upon your graduation and the remnants of the compulsion charms will only fully fade in two or three years. But we have to stop the two forces from destroying your self in the process."

The bed sank under some weight and Sirius realized his father had sat down next to him again. "We've brewed a… solution. But it is not perfect."

"Will I survive if I take it?"

"You'll survive. It will stop the battle in you; even out the forces so to say. But it will do so by making your magic less powerful. By hiding the very thing the magic placed on you seeks to destroy," his father said. "Upon your graduation from Hogwarts, it will break. It might be quite painful. When you wake, it will be as if from a dream: you will remember your time at Hogwarts, but it will seem as if years have passed."

"And what will happen to my magic?" said Sirius as his voice grew weaker with each word.

"By giving each side equal power, it will inevitably create two affinities for you. You cannot use both; it would destroy you."

"So I'll have to choose."

"It will be painful. Magic is a powerful force and both sides will fight. But you will survive."

* * *

"Did he take the potion?"

"Yes. He's sleeping right now. I expect he'll wake in the morning."

"Did he say which side he'll choose?"

"I didn't press him. He was dying, after all."

"But…"

"But he tried to tell me what Potter was up to. He tried to break the compulsion she placed on him."

"Was that just because of the binding, though?" said another voice. Lord Rosier paused before speaking again. "Or was it of his own free will?"

Lord Lestrange talked before Orion Black had a chance to respond. "We will just have to wait and see, won't we?"

**So! The end of another chapter! **

**Let me know what you think and if you have any ideas for the future- I'd love to hear them!**

**The next chapter will be up next Saturday. It should be even longer then this one as I try and make the chapters longer. (ALSO- LOTS AND LOTS OF ACTION. I know this chapter was a lot of talking- but don't worry, there will be action in the next few chapters!)**

**~ Alexye**


	16. Chapter 15: That Flesh is heir to

**Disclaimer: Don't own/profit from HP.**

**I'm so sorry (again!) about that brief wait! Right now, I'm on vacation so the internet's been in and out. We just got to a new hotel today and thankfully they have internet. Anyways, as promised, I wrote a longer chapter this go around- enjoy! **

**Also, thank you so, so much to everyone who's reviewed so far. I love getting them!**

"… and so that brings us to our final topic for discussion: our graduating class." said Dumbledore as his eyes grazed around the room. "Is there anyone a professor feels we need to talk about particularly?"

McGonagall let the room pause for a moment before beginning. "A few of my Gryffindors – Longbottom and Potter – have professed an interest in pursuing careers as Aurors; I've let the Auror office know, but I believe that a recommendation from some of their professors would not be unhelpful."

Flitwick nodded in agreement. "And Miss Evans has talked to me about studying for a Charms Mastery. Though, as I told her, I do believe –"

"Yes, you and I should talk to her about that, Filius." said Dumbledore, interrupting. "Though while we are on the topic, are there any other seventh years that we feel would be able to complete a Mastery? Yes- Horace?"

"As I've mentioned before, I think Severus Snape would be excellent in Potions. He's got the natural talent-"

"-Yes, yes, but what about the rumors that he's joined the Death Eaters? Should we be supporting someone like that for a Mastery? Who knows what he'll do with the knowledge!" said Pomona Sprout, one of the younger professors.

"My dear," said Dumbledore gravely, "I too have heard the rumors that young Snape, along with Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black – one hopes his younger brother will not be lead astray – and the Lestrange brothers have bound themselves to the individual calling himself Lord Voldemort." Murmurs broke out at this. "But fellow teachers! We cannot allow such rumors to quell our desire to teach-"

"What about the arranged marriages the purebloods are still forcing their girls into?" said Pomona angrily. "I was just informed by one of my students yesterday that Narcissa Black– who hasn't even graduated yet! – is going to be married to Lucius Malfoy and that every student knew it."

"We cannot stop families from making these decisions." said Dumbledore. Professor Sprout ignored him and started to mutter angrily to another teacher. "We can only teach the students and hope that they in turn will not make these decisions for their children. Now, are there any more – yes, Pomona?"

"I must insist that we appoint someone to talk to these children and make sure they know they can leave their family." said Pomona stiffly. "Someone must talk to these Slytherins."

"'These Slytherins'? Why just 'these Slytherins', may I ask?" said Horace Slughorn, huffing angrily. "Surely everyone doesn't think that this is just a Slytherin problem, do they?"

"I must agree with Pomona, Horace," said Filius Flitwick. "Sadly, I would also urge you not to help young Severus complete his Mastery. I do not believe he would use it for the right purposes."

"Ahh… the right purposes." said a ghostly voice. Binns often had a tendency to wander into these meetings and think that the teachers, who had been his students so many years before, were his class. "As Merlin himself said, 'History is written by the victors'. The example we will be studying today is…"

"I believe we shall have to continue this conversation later," said Dumbledore, chuckling. "It appears Professor Binns has decided to teach the room a lesson." The teachers, all too used to Binn's rambling lectures, left the room in angry groups. Dumbledore walked straight over to Flitwick. "Now I believe we need to talk about Miss Evans, Filius…"

* * *

Graduation had flown by in seconds for Sirius. Soon enough, the pop of Apparation had dragged his family into the Library of 12 Grimmuald Place. The Blacks quickly dispersed at the look on Orion's face; even Andromeda, who paused on her way out as if she wanted to talk to her uncle, left quickly.

Sirius sank down into one of the armchairs and rested his head on his hands. "So what now?"

Orion sat down into one of the chairs opposite Sirius. "For now, you cannot practice magic. Over the next day or so, you'll start to remember certain things. The bindings on your magic would have normally disappeared by now, but they'll stay in place because of the magic we used to level them a few years ago," he said. "Once you decide what… well, once you decide, I will show you how to break both of them. It'll be painful, but you should feel a noticeable boost in the power of your spells afterwards."

His father paused, waiting for Sirius to respond.

"Well, I suppose we'll talk in a few days then." Orion said at last. "I have some business to attend to right now – did your cousin Andromeda tell you she wanted to talk to me? – but I will be in my study if you need me."

Sirius looked up at his father and nodded.

* * *

He had been unpacking his things from his trunk when they started to return.

First it was the little things, like how excited he was to finally go to Hogwarts. The wonder (and shock) as the grand castle rose out of the lake before them. The fun he'd had racing down the train as they passed over lakes and through hills.

And then the big things came.

Like how he'd been so pleased with himself to be best friends with James Potter, the king of the first years on the train. How he'd wanted so desperately to impress James and prove to the other first years that he _wasn't _a Slytherin – the worst house of all according to some older Gryffindors who'd stopped by – that he was one of them. James, drinking the Pumpkin Juice he'd brought from home and that he'd so nicely shared with Sirius, had assured Sirius and the group of the utter terror Slytherins were sure to commit. But, he'd told Sirius later, he knew that Sirius was better then all of that – after all, that was why James wanted to be friends with him.

But there were also the happy memories of Gryffindor. The camaraderie of his fellow Gryffindors as they became the fearsome Marauders. Being the most popular, not for his family or his money or his blood, but because people _liked_ him.

Being friends with James. With Remus. With Peter.

The fun of trying to see how hard he could press his parents before they cracked, before they admitted that it bothered them to see how much he hated their ways.

And then there were the conflicting memories of Slytherin. Of being on the other side once again. The pride he'd felt as he'd gotten better and better in classes, earned his teachers' respect. The yearning to learn more and more, to make himself into something. Stuff that had been mocked in Gryffindor.

He let the clothes that had been in his hands fall back into the trunk. He needed to think. Or not to think – that would be better. He needed to get out of both lives; out of the Wizarding World.

At least for a moment.

* * *

The pub he'd found in the muggle world was run down, but comfortably so. 'The Queen's Head' proclaimed the faded paint on the sign outside. Nothing magical about it. Sirius ordered a drink as soon as he stepped inside. He'd just get drunk, maybe go sleep at his uncle's house for the night. Not face his father for a bit.

He was on to his second, maybe third drink when the girls walked in. Like the rest of the pub, he turned to look at the rowdy girls – most clearly already drunk – when one of the them recognized him.

"_Sirius_?" said Lily Evans. "Is that really you?"

The other girls rushed forward towards Sirius at that, pulling Lily along with them. "Oh, you two know each other?" said one of them, giggling.

"He's-"

"We went to school together." said Sirius.

"Oh, friends from school!" said another girl.

"Well…" Lily looked at Sirius with shared amusement. How were they supposed to explain that they were in rival houses? That they weren't allowed to be friends? They both finally smiled at another. "Yeah, we were friends."

Some of the girls obviously took that the wrong way. "Oh… oh, _friends_" said one of them and winked at her. "Well, you should bring him along tonight, Lily!"

Lily turned to Sirius as the other girls started to order. "I'm sorry about that, they're not normally so…"

"Excited?"

"Something like that. We're just celebrating graduation – well, their graduation. They're friends from my neighborhood," Lily said. "What are you doing here? I never thought I'd find you in a place like—well, like this!"

"I wanted to get some alone time. I guess I forgot that some people live in the muggle world." said Sirius. "Not that that's a bad thing!" he added quickly.

Lily laughed. "It's alright, Sirius. I know what you mean," she said. "So what's new with you? Not to state the obvious, but we haven't talked in ages."

"Life's been good. This and that, you know," said Sirius nonchalantly. "What happened when I left? What did I miss? Did you finally give in to James?" A genuine curiosity underlined his words.

"James? No… no, it's not working out." Lily didn't seem to pleased to be talking about her rumored boyfriend. Sirius had heard that they'd gone on a couple of dates from some gossips in Slytherin, but he hadn't bothered to learn more – not that there was more, it appeared. "But other then that… well, I'm sure you heard Frank and Alice are getting married soon."

"Because of the war, right?"

"Yes, he's going off to train as an Auror." Lily said. "He'll be good at it."

In the dim light of the pub, Sirius noticed that there seemed to be something off about Lily. It was hard to reconcile this tired, dull girl with the lively teenager he'd known those few years back, but, he supposed, that was what happened when you left your friends. What else could it be?

A force like bricks hit into him that very second. "Let's go to the club!" said the clearly drunk girl who'd fallen into him. "Lily, let's go dance!"

"Oh, now they're hopeless," Lily said with a giggle and the faintest hint of a smile. "Do you want to come with us Sirius? I think it's some club a few blocks down."

* * *

The nightclub thrummed with the music. It was fast, electronic; mere noises with indistinguishable words. By now the drinks had hit everyone hard, and Sirius was happily content with all the spirit of a drunk to let himself be pulled along by the drunkenly amorous and giggling girls. Inside was even darker then the pub, but lights flared everywhere randomly in rhythm with the music. By now Sirius had lost all focus. He could see, but couldn't. His senses overwhelmed him. Adrenaline pumped through his veins; his blood felt like it was boiling. The noises were louder, his body over sensitive.

It seemed like he'd gone to sleep when he found himself upstairs suddenly. He hadn't fallen asleep, of course, but the alcohol made him forget each previous second. He remembered the dance floor, remembered –

And suddenly he was kissing someone. Suddenly they were throwing their clothes to the floor. Suddenly he was pulling his fingers through her red hair; suddenly they found themselves in a bed; suddenly it went dark.

When Sirius woke up the next morning, his head throbbed with all the pain of a thousand ants eating his brain. As he stretched his back, he opened his eyes slowly, fully expecting to be in his bed at 12 Grimmuald Place.

He nearly jumped out of the bed in fright when he realized he definitely wasn't. And then he realized he wasn't even in a bed at all when he fell out of the couch and on to the hard wooden floor. Sirius would have probably ignored this and gone right back to sleep had a loud, unfairly cheerful voice boomed in his ears.

"Well, morning to you too! Glad to see you're finally up – my poor house elf's having a right fit about you waking the whole household up!" Sirius groaned as he recognized the booming voice of his uncle Alphard. "I'd give you some potion, but it seems Missy's gone and hidden it all. Something about you barging in here, rip roaring drunk, and waking poor old me up at four a.m. in the morning. Ah, she loves to mother me." The portly older man looked up wistfully and then turned back to Sirius. "Anyways, she claims she's forgotten where she put all the potions, so I guess you'll just have to man up and suffer through it."

Sirius let out a muffled mumph as he let his head collapse again on the floor. Unfortunately, this only made his headache worse. Worse still was the clanging in his brain – _oh, wait, that wasn't his head…_

He'd forgotten how stubborn his uncle's house elf got when faced with something she utterly disapproved of. She couldn't criticize him directly, of course, but she found little ways to make her views quite known. Which, in this case, subsisted of her loudly banging pots and pans up and down the hallway outside and all the way into the room he was in.

"Must you do that, Missy? It's awfully loud." said Uncle Alphard nonchalantly, who by this point had made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs and was reading the morning paper. In no way whatsoever did he actually make an attempt to stop his house elf.

"Missy must test if the pots are up to polish, Master Alphard." said the wrinkled house elf resolutely. "Missy can't help it if it bothers some idiots. Would you like Missy to get you your breakfast Sir?"

"Yes, that'd be lovely Missy. Well, I guess if you have to do it, you have to do it. Eh, isn't that right, Sirius?" He said this with a well-aimed kick to Sirius' backside.

"Mmph."

"Oh, come on lad, get up off the floor. At least lay down on the couch – there, she'll be gone for a bit," he said, and indeed Missy and her clanging pots had left the room. "Now what's all the hubblub about? I thought your rebellious days were over. A damn shame, I told your mother, a damn shame. She got quite mad at me – thankfully it lasted me a couple of family events, it did. Well, at least she didn't have to see you like this. You can be rebellious all you want, my boy, but it's right to give your poor mother a heart attack and show up at her doorstep drunk."

Sirius gingerly picked himself up off the floor and pulled himself onto the couch.

"Oh, lay back for a bit, you're in no condition to talk. You only got in at four, after all." All of a sudden the clanging started up again and Sirius tried to burrow his head into the pillows. It didn't help. "There's my breakfast! And how inventive of you, Missy, to levitate those pots behind you – look, Sirius, isn't that just the greatest thing you've ever seen?" Uncle Alphard's booming, unfairly cheerful voice did not improve Sirius' outlook on life any bit. "Thank you, Missy." Sirius could feel her eyes boring into him.

When the sound finally left his ears, he sat up – very, very slowly – on the couch. His uncle was still reading the newspaper. "Missy left a few things for you, help yourself to it now!" Sirius heard the crinkling of the newspaper as he helped himself to some of the fruit on the table. Finally, after procrastinating as much as possible, he leaned back and put his plate on one of the side tables so he could eat.

"So what's all this rebelling about now, boy?"

Sirius chewed the piece of peach as slowly as possible before (at last) he was forced to turn to his uncle. "I-"

"Oh, don't tell me! Is it a girl? Off finding the girl of your dreams? No? Maybe you went out to find some fun before you're married off? A bachelor party, perhaps- oh, no then? Well, it has to be drowning your sorrows then. That's the only other reason real men get drunk, anyways."

Sirius gave up on eating and laid back, looking at the ceiling. "Something like that, yeah," he said at last as his studied one of the many cracks with the eye of a great artist.

"Well." His uncle leaned back in the creaking armchair. "Well well well." he said. "All I can say is, don't make any hasty decisions. They have a way of backfiring on you." He pushed himself up from his armchair and started to walk out the door.

"I have to get to work, but make yourself comfortable for as long as you need – and Sirius?" Uncle Alphard looked back to make sure his nephew was paying attention. "Don't be afraid to fight for what you want."

* * *

Sirius sat there studying the crack for a while. It could have been a few minutes or an hour; he simply couldn't tell.

_What am I giving up? I've seen both paths I could lead, all the roads I could follow. But it's really who I'm giving up. Who I'm disappointing. _

_Does anyone even trust me? Do I even trust myself? And what do I even want… what will even make me happy? Or the people close to me happy?_

_Who are even the people close to me?_

And then in an instant he stood up, his mind resolute in purpose.

_Prongs,_

_I'd like to talk if possible. Our old haunt in an hour? I'll wait there._

_Padfoot_

"Missy?" The house elf appeared with a pop. "Would you send this – wait a second, will you?" Sirius turned and grabbed one of the papers on the writing desk he'd walked over to and hastily scribbled out a second message, folded over the paper, and wrote C.R.

_C,_

_Can I meet you this afternoon? Name the time and place._

_S. B._

He handed the new note to her. "This one to the Rosier household and the other to James Potter."

* * *

Regulus Black raced up the steps of his uncle's house madly. He rang the doorbell impatiently; it was an eternity for him as he waited. _Why Uncle insists in living in a damn muggle house is beyond—_

"Yes?" Regulus had to look down to see his uncle's even more impatient house elf, Missy.

"I'm looking for Sirius. Have you seen him?"

"The Young Hooligan left a while ago," the house elf said stiffly. Regulus could have sworn he heard a muttered "_thankfully_".

"Do you have any idea where he went?" he said. "Back home—"

"He didn't tell Missy where he was going." The house elf was about to shut the door when Regulus wedged his foot in the crack.

"Please, Missy? It's really important!"

The house elf gave in with a suffering sigh. "The Young Hooligan said something to the Master about a shrieking place. Now may Missy please go, Young Master?"

**So what does everyone think? Leave me a review with your thoughts or if you have an idea- I read them all!**

**The next update will be next Sunday (if my internet keeps up).**

**~ Alexye**


	17. Chapter 16: 'Tis a consummation

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP and I don't make any profit off of it.**

**Wow… ten pages and the chapter is finally done. I hope you guys enjoy! **

Jennifer O'Connelly eyed Charlus Potter with a steely look. With a steady hand, she gracefully lifted the cup of tea to her lips, took a measured sip, and slowly lowered the cup back down to the table. Her eyes never left his.

"You wish to sell me a bride for my son."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Does it offend your sensibilities so much, Lord Potter?" said Jennifer. "But you may have her for whatever you desire. My interest is in the transaction, not the outcome."

Charlus, Lord Potter, leaned back in his chair and absentmindedly swirled his wine glass in his hand. He had just come from a dinner and was still dressed in his formal robes. "You have confirmed she has the power? That she is of the blood, born under the right signs?" he said at last.

"Yes. And if she is not… well, she will die then. No massive loss to yourself."

"And her magic is bound? She is ready?"

"I have worked on the binding for several years. It was finished the year she graduated Hogwarts."

"That will require me to preform the ritual soon."

She sneered. "Would you rather I take the offer to another Lord? Plenty of them will jump at the opportunity—"

"Perhaps. Maybe less so, once they hear what you ask for payment. And just what do you ask for for payment?" he said coldly. "Several hundred gallons, perhaps? The services of a potion master? What does the squib desire?"

She reddened in anger. "I am willing to lower the normal price for a small favor. Nothing major. But in return for asking for less, I expect to be included in the ritual. To have some of the pow—"

"The magic she will produce. The raw power she possesses. Of course. You squibs all want the same," Lord Potter said. "And what makes you think I would give that to you?"

Jennifer was suddenly aware of a burning sensation in her body. She tried to say something, but couldn't; her body had frozen suddenly and completely.

"I see the potion is beginning to hit you." Charlus Potter said in amusement. "You see, unlike you, I am a wizard. And as a wizard, I can preform magic. And as someone who can preform magic – a distinct advantage over you, I am sure you'll agree – I see no reason why I should allow myself to be blackmailed by you."

She tried to speak. She really did, but it was impossible; how had this _happened_? _He needs me. He can't do this, he doesn't even know who-_

"I can imagine what you're thinking. That I need you, probably. That only you can lead me to the girl, only _you_ can complete the ritual to harness her power. Well, for a man of my means… well, it is quite easy to find the girl you've been nurturing. You didn't even make an effort to hide your tracks," Charlus said. He leaned forward in his chair. "Though I suppose it didn't hurt that I had been keeping a watch out for a girl like her in any case."

If she could have moved, her eyes would have widened in shock.

"I don't suppose you would have known that. Very few people listen to the old tales these days. But when my Watcher brought me word about Lily Evans… it was perfect. And then he told me of you – how you'd already prepared her for a ritual, perhaps, or to be a perfect, loyal, unwilling wife." He rose at this and walked slowly to behind Jennifer's chair. "Though I must admit I admire your willingness to sell out your own niece – really, I'd love to know how much it stung when you realized she was born with all this power and you didn't have a drop – I am not moved by sentimentality so much that I would even think of losing a drop of that _power_ when I could get it for free," he said in her ear.

The blade moved quietly across her throat, so soft it barely broke the skin. The few drops that appeared were quickly caught by a flask.

"This is all I need until the final ritual. I suppose you'll have to die afterwards to fully break the binding, but it really can't be helped," he said as he closed the tiny flask. "We all have to make sacrifices for the Greater Good."

* * *

"Miss Evans. Care for a Lemon Drop?" Albus Dumbledore beamed at the recent graduate. "No? Well, that's a shame… I'll just put those away then here – don't mind me, sit down and make yourself comfortable, I'll just be a moment – there we are! Though I must inform you, Miss Evans, I was a bit surprised to receive your letter. What exactly did you wish to speak to me today about?"

"Well, Professor… it's a little hard to explain." said Lily Evans, a bit flummoxed at addressing her former Headmaster. She had been more then a little surprised when Dumbledore had insisted on meeting in person instead of sending a simple reply to her letter. "I don't quite understand the issue myself-"

"Yes, this would be about the Charms Mastery, wouldn't it?" Lily nodded quickly and inched forward a bit in her chair. "Ahh… yes, Professor Flitwick and I have talked about this issue quite a bit. Which is why I wanted to talk to you in person. It's always a sad time when I see my young muggleborn students first experience the true hatred of our world… very, very upsetting. It pains me very deeply to inform you, Miss Evans, that your request for a Charms Apprenticeship has been denied." Dumbledore said gravely. "Both Professor Flitwick and myself have attempted to make the board see reason, but it appears that several members are opposed to – and there really is no easy way to say this – the circumstances of your birth-"

"Isn't there something I can do, though?" said Lily fervently as her face went pale. "Isn't there anyway else I can get my mastery? Or maybe I could write to those members, plead with them to—"

"I am afraid there is nothing that can be done, my dear. These matters are governed solely by a board and the members of that board are known only to whom they choose to reveal themselves to." said Dumbledore softly.

"Then I suppose I'll just… go then," said Lily. Her voice was so faint Dumbledore could barely hear it, but it was steady. She rose from her seat swiftly. "Thank you for your help, Professor Dumbledore."

When the door closed behind her, a goblin-like man stepped out from behind one of the doors in Dumbledore's office. "What a pity. I always liked the girl, even if she was a bit idealistic," said Flitwick absentmindedly as he examined some instruments on a table. "Why did you oppose the girl's mastery in the board meeting, Albus? Beyond the obvious reasons, that is."

Dumbledore gazed steadily at his Charms Professor. At last he spoke. "I cannot, in good conscience, put Miss Evans forth for a Charms Mastery knowing that she does possess neither the strength to bear the hatred that will come her way nor the stubbornness to see it through to the end."

"So it has nothing to do with the fact that Charlus Potter has shown an interest in her?" said Flitwick. He turned and raised his eyes to meet Dumbledore's.

"What _Lord _Potter does is no concern of mine, Filius. The Head of House Potter does not command me. That being said, however…"

"She is not worth the fight."

"No. And the only reason I can imagine Potter is interested in her for is for his lovesick son."

"Quite sad, that. The girl is smart, but she'll be unable to handle herself as lady of a great Pureblood House."

"Indeed. But who are we to stand in the way of love?"

"Omnia Vincat Amor."

"Wiser words were never said. Miss Evans' story cannot end well, Filius, but this is for the Greater Good."

* * *

Sirius stood outside the door of the Shrieking Shack with his cloak wrapped tightly across his body and his hood pulled over his head to obscure his face completely. It would have been easier to cast a disillusionment spell or simply go in by way of the Whomping Willow, but the first would have forced him to use magic, and the second… well, it would have been suspicious for anyone to see a Grim, but even more suspicious in front of Hogwarts.

_Especially since Dumbledore probably knows I'm an Animagus…_

The door creaked loudly as he pushed it open. A wind swept Sirius in along with it, but as soon as he was inside, the door slammed shut.

The Marauder's old haunt had grown older (if that was possible) since Sirius had been inside last. The floorboards creaked heavily whenever Sirius took a step, and one could still see evidence of Remus' last stay in the torn curtains and ripped walls. Sirius could see gaps between the rotten boards that covered the windows. Suddenly, a chilled draft passed through the room, leaving a shivering Sirius and tattered curtains fluttering in its wake.

James Potter was nowhere to be found – but when Sirius checked the clock on the wall (miraculously still standing), he saw that it had only been about half an hour since he had sent James the letter. _Still another half hour to go_. And he was already bored and miserable – for some reason, he had thought the walk up here would take longer. Though it had been a few years since he'd hiked up here. The floo itself had only taken a minute or two; he'd landed with no problem in The Hog's Head, and had even stayed for a moment or two, enjoying the toasty room –

_Toasty. Fire. Right._

There was a fireplace right in front of him. Why hadn't he thought of that befo—

_And I need firewood._ Hadn't he seen some on the side of the house? Sirius nearly ran out of the room in anticipation of the warm fire he was about to build. He had to go back and forth a few times to get the necessary amount, but soon there was an enviable stack in the ancient fireplace. And he would have had a fire going right away, but then there was the issue of the actual fire – _and I can't use magic. Merlin's saggy left –_

"_Incendio_," said a soft voice. Sirius leapt to his feet to face the newcomer as the wood before him burst into brutally warm flames.

In the entrance of the Shrieking Shack stood James Potter. The untouched door stood open behind him as if by some invisible wind; around him, the floorboards creaked. Neither said anything for some time and instead eyed each other warily.

"You wanted to see me." James said at last in a disinterested voice. "What do you want?"

_At least he hasn't tried to kill me yet._ "I want to talk," said Sirius in what he hoped was a steady voice. "Do you want to sit down? Are there still chairs upstairs?" _Or maybe lower your wand?_

James shook his head. "Don't bother, I can make better ones down here." And with a few flicks of his wand, some of the fallen boards did indeed transfigure themselves into comfortable-looking armchairs in a corner of the room. With another flick, a rocky wooden table popped into existence between the two. "Well? You wanted to sit, so sit." Finally he had tucked his wand away as he walked swiftly over and sat down on the chair. Though James sat back in the chair, he didn't relax a single muscle.

Sirius followed a bit more carefully. He was excited to see his old friend – he wanted to do nothing more then run over and hug him – but a smaller part of him was cautious. This wasn't the same James' he'd known those few years ago. _Maybe it is, _a voice said snidely in his head. _Maybe you just never realized just _how_ he treated those Slytherins_… _Or you just never wanted to. _

"James, I … I wanted to talk about the last few years. Explain some things. I don't want us to be enemies."

His former best friend looked at him carefully. If Sirius had wanted to, perhaps he would have seen coldness or hatred in those eyes, but Sirius truly wanted to be friends with James, and so he saw only a guarded look. "Okay. Go ahead."

Sirius bit his tongue for a moment. "Okay then. I guess I need to start with our Fourth Year – the year my grandfather died, remember?…

* * *

The end of the story was met with silence.

It had taken nearly an hour for Sirius to finish and throughout it all James had sat silently taking it in. His eyes never moved from Sirius' face. His face failed to betray any of his thoughts.

In the absolute silence, Sirius could make out the faint sound of rain outside. Inside, the fire – though still quite strong – was starting to die. Drafts still blew through the rooms, and in one corner, Sirius could have sworn he kept hearing the floorboards creak.

James stood. He didn't say a word as he walked over to the fireplace with his back to Sirius.

Every single one of Sirius' muscles tensed up. He was almost afraid to lean back in his chair, afraid that any sign he was taking this lightly – taking the possibility of James' forgiveness lightly – would curse his chances forever.

James' back started to shake. And then it stopped.

He turned.

"You want me to support you, no matter what you do? Trust in you that even if you decide to follow your family, you'll still be good?" Sirius nodded slowly even though it didn't quite seem like a question. James started to become more and more frantic as he paced around the room. The door to the Shrieking Shack blew open loudly and a wild wind burst into the room and straight into James. He didn't even blink.

His body started to shake again, but it took Sirius a moment to realize that he wasn't sobbing – he was laughing. Wild, maniac laughter.

"Do you _really_ expect me to believe that? I mean, honestly, how stupid do you think I am?" He came to a halt in the middle of the room and raised his shaking finger to point at Sirius. "Father warned me about you – they all did, and I didn't want to believe them. From the minute I came to Hogwarts, you were trying to trick me. That's all you Slytherins try to do… but I was too smart! Too smart for you! _I _figured it out!"

James' eyes had gone wide, his voice uneven. His pointed finger shook like a possessed minister. "All my life I've been told what your type is. No, I told myself – surely not everyone was bad. But then I started to notice the signs. You always tried to get _me_ into trouble. You tried to get all of us killed," he said. "Dumbledore showed me the error of my ways, you see! I'd have never risked becoming an animagus if it wasn't for you. An then there were all the girls – no true Gryffindor girl would go out with someone like you unless you did something to them…"

Sirius sat there in shock as his former best friend went on and on. Everything was drudged up and blamed on Sirius: every time they had gotten into trouble, every time they had failed something, every time it had seemed like Sirius was more popular. James went on in particular how Sirius had still talked to his little brother, and Sirius wanted nothing more then to scream at him that _he was still my brother, he was still part of my family_.

He stopped before Sirius was aware of it. As James' chest heaved up and down from his shouting, Sirius stood up in the silence. James moved his hand down to the pocket he had left his wand in and let his arm hang.

That was the moment Sirius was acutely aware that he didn't have a wand.

James started to mutter to himself. "I can't let him leave… I can't let him leave – STOP. MOVING."

Sirius, who had been edging slightly towards the door, froze in his tracks. It was now apparent to him that James had indeed realized that Sirius was unarmed. It was also apparent to Sirius how much danger he was in.

"I can't let you leave." It was a stage whisper, almost a pleading one, full of anguish – but for what, Sirius didn't know: was it James' regret about hating him, or the unwillingness to make his first kill?

James slipped his hand into the pocket and pointed the wand he took out at Sirius.

It didn't occur to Sirius to move as James' hand began to take motion and he heard the word "_Diffi-"_

He lost sight of James when a heavy weight slammed into him and knocked him onto the floor. Sirius tried to turn his head but it seemed like it took an eternity; in front of him, a blurry figure twisted to the side. Someone was yelling, but it was all out of focus, all so quiet—

"Sirius!" Regulus shook Sirius back into motion. "Come on! We have to go!" He pulled Sirius up and was headed towards the door when Sirius saw James, coughing from something Regulus had tossed at him, begin to cast another spell. He slammed his younger brother behind him and to the side. The blast sent a fireball into the door and the wooden frame exploded into flames. James fell to his knees but recovered in an instant.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME! YOU WON'T ESCAPE!" said James. "I AM BETTER THAN YOU AND I ALWAYS WILL BE!"

Sirius finally realized what was wrong – Regulus had blinded James. Careful not to make a sound in the creaky old building (thankfully, most of the fireproof charms would still hold up unless James sent another fireball at them), he motioned to his brother the fireplace. As James spun around and around, trying to pinpoint where they were while he uselessly rubbed his eyes, the brothers started towards the fireplace. Sirius fingered the floo powder in his pocket and prayed they had enough.

They got only two steps before they hit a creaky floorboard. James spun towards them immediately and raised something else – not his wand, but Sirius had no time to figure out what it was as he grabbed his brother by his robe and they sprinted to the fireplace.

They didn't make it.

His brother was by his side one second and then collapsed on the floor the next. Sirius fell to his knees to hold him. The dagger – only now did Sirius realize what James Potter had wielded with such deadly accuracy – was buried in his chest. Regulus was clearly bleeding, but worse, had gone pale and was getting whiter each second.

A creak brought Sirius' attention back to reality.

Potter was now slowly advancing, aware that he had caught his enemies. Still blind, he swept the air before him with his hands as if to try and catch them.

_We have to get back to Grimmauld Place. _

He slid his fingers into his pockets swiftly. He found the ring, the ring given to the Black Heir and put his finger into it immediately. Sirius didn't care what it meant, didn't care what would happen, he just had to save his brother- _don't die on me now. Not now. Not like this._

_Not by James._

Potter was now close enough to touch them. He was no longer as confident about where the two brothers were; on unsteady feet, he took a few steps in the opposite direction.

Sirius took his chance. With one hand, he tossed the floo powder into the barely alive fire. It didn't turn green.

_Time for a new plan_.

He took his brother's wand out of his unconscious hands. There needed to be more fire – _come on, INCENDIO!_

It worked. The fire was now full-blown – but it still hadn't turned green. _We have to go for it._

He looked to the side unintentionally, but Potter still hadn't turned back towards them. Lifting the unconscious Regulus in his arms, he lunged for the fire. Just as their bodies were about to fall into it, green flames leapt into existence. Potter roared in anger as he realized what had happened and began to charge towards them, but he was too late.

"12 Grimmauld Place," said Sirius as they fell into the fire. The last thing he saw was Potter's rage and the fire still blazing behind him.

* * *

And then they hit a wall.

They were in complete darkness, still in the Floo Network but not out of it. They should have come into the library fireplace in 12 Grimmauld Place.

Sirius, still holding his bleeding and unconscious brother in his arms, realized immediately what had happened. The network had been shut. The Floo was closed to Regulus.

_Regulus was going to die here. No one would realize what had happened. They're never going to find him in time. _

_How many days would it take for him to die here, trying to stay alive with only his brother's cold body for company?_

Worst of all, Sirius was completely aware that it was his fault. Painful horror passed through his gut like a jolt as he accepted what had happened. It was his fault his brother had been dragged into this in the first place, his fault his brother was going to die in the dark and alone-

No. Not alone. He was with him.

And he wasn't going to let him die.

_I am the Black Heir. I can do this._

They were in the empty dark, but Sirius could feel the magic of the Floo Network surrounding them. Around them were the distinct magical signatures of other families; Sirius weeded through them, searching for – _there it is._

His father's magic was immediately distinct to Sirius. Remembering Careyna's lessons, he closed his eyes and looked inside himself. In this state, Sirius could _feel_ the raw magic inside of him, the tendrils reaching out through every part of his body like an intricate web. The magic was like raw threads, each different variations of dark blues and deep purples.

But there was no time for elegance. He knew what to do in theory, now was the time to do it and hope it worked. Taking one tendril, he tossed towards the magic of 12 Grimmauld Place and _tugged_. Instantly, he could no longer feel the rest of the Floo Network – now only 12 Grimmauld Place stood before him.

He took his magic, all of it, and hurled it with all its might at the barrier before him.

Nothing happened.

He did it again. And again. And again.

But only a small crack appeared.

Sirius roared. _REGULUS IS NOT GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS! _Desperation and anger welled up inside of him like an insurmountable tidal wave. He reached deep inside of himself, taking every strand of magic he had, completely aware that it wouldn't be enough.

And then he remembered the ring.

His anger changed, collapsed. In its stead rose a deep calm. Sirius knew what to do.

He dove into the essence of the ring. Instead of clumping the magic all together, he _called_ it. Every strand, every fiber of his being came to life inside of him. The ring was a Black Ring; with it, he could bring to life the magic of his family, not only his magic but the magic that flowed inside of him. Anyone watching him would have seen his eyes go dark with the magic inside of him.

He didn't slam into the wall. He didn't push.

Sirius took his magic and tore down the barrier. He plunged magic into each crevice, each crack, and ripped apart the wall from the inside. He couldn't destroy it completely – or even remotely close to completely – but he could and did create a small hole.

With the last remnants of his magic, he latched on to someone's magic and pulled Regulus and himself through.

* * *

They landed on the floor of the library; Sirius on his knees, Regulus, still unconscious and bleeding, in his arms. It felt like the ordeal had lasted several years; in reality, it had probably only lasted two or three seconds – time did tend to past differently in the empty void of the Floo Network, after all.

Sirius swayed. Exhaustion hit him like a wave, but he had to get Regulus – suddenly he was aware that his whole family, cousins and aunts and uncles included, were in the library. They had landed in a corner, away from the main group; only Narcissa noticed them.

"Sirius! Thank God Regulus got you – it's Andromeda –" she said, tears streaming down her face as she turned towards them.

Sirius thought he heard her start to scream as he finally collapsed, his dying brother still in his arms. The magic inside him roared as it began to tear him apart.

**Huh. Well, there's that. Let me know what you think in reviews! Maybe the reviews will decide Regulus' fate… or maybe I've already decided and this is just a blatant (and slightly pathetic) press for more reviews… either way, I'm off to go cry in a corner. **

**Next chapter will be next Sunday.**

**~ Alexye**


	18. Chapter 17: Devoutly to be wished

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and this isn't for profit. **

**Hi everyone! I'm so, so sorry for the wait- this chapter was just very hard to write, so I just decided to leave it at as a shorter chapter and move onto the next one. The next chapter is going to be much longer (back to around 4000/5000 words) and should be in about a week and a half.**

**Hope everyone enjoys the chapter!**

_In his mind, he was awake. Fully aware of anything and everything. Overaware._

_It was funny how dreams did that to one, wasn't it?_

_His eyes opened to darkness. That should have been the first clue: it was the sort of darkness that didn't truly exist in the real world – the kind of darkness that is truly without any sort of light. _

_Despite that, though, he could still see. _

_He laid on the ground, fully aware, unable to move even an inch._

_That was when the pain began again._

_It hadn't ever stopped, really – he'd just gotten so used to it that it had dulled. And as if the pain knew he was ignoring it, it began to change. It was no longer just a dull throb, painful but unchanging: now, it was bolts and whips and knives and fires and bolts of ice, cutting deep and shallow, unceasing and ever changing –_

_- and then he wasn't lying on the ground anymore – or he was, but now he was inside himself. Numbly, he realized in the back of his head that something was wrong, that he shouldn't be awake and be able to see into himself _because that doesn't happen in real life_ but the pain whipped across his body again to punish him, cutting off his thoughts._

_Everything was big. Not just big, but bigger than him, expanding and overwhelming him. _

_It was Beautiful. Cruel. Dangerous. _

_Roots, vines, ropes of sparkling deep blues and purples spun around him, glorious in their intensity. They whipped back and forth, cutting into each other and branching out. Not that they were fast – no, each movement was slow and precise, each branch creeping over the other and sinking deep, spreading tiny threads out and around him. _

_But he spied something out of the corner of his eye. It flickered in and out; curious, he followed unmoving. _

_While the grand vines moving and spreading out all around him were deep purples and blues, this tiny branch was a motley light purple and blue. As if it saw him, it began to inch towards him; _even though he didn't know why _it filled him with a terrible horror. Slowly, it sunk tendrils deeper and deeper into his foot, hooking on with dying strength._

_It felt fake, unreal; powerful, yes, but not __**His**__. Corrupted. _

_The pain subsided for a bit. The wondrous ropes began to drift away; suddenly, he was aware that light was drifting in. _

_**NO.**_

_His call echoed around him. Instantly, he was no longer cold, but filled and surrounded by the warmth of the darkness around him. _

_It was what they had been waiting for, he realized. Invited back, they now sank into him, leaving no inch of his skin untouched. Now, he grew – he was no longer small, overwhelmed by his surroundings – he _was_ his surroundings, expanding each second. _

_When it reached the small tendrils, the pain ran through him anew. He was ready for it now, though, and welcomed it: it was a terrifying pain, yes, but now he knew it would be over soon. And as the small roots were devoured one by one, the pain subsided to a dull throb until finally, it stopped._

* * *

Sirius awoke to an empty room. It was a familiar situation to him, and now not unwelcome: he was back in Grimmauld Place, in the childhood room he'd so despised in his early years at Hogwarts. Now, though, the old decorations comforted him; there was something comforting about the old wooden furniture, something warm about the dark colors.

On the wall next to his bed, Sirius could see the pictures of the scantily clad muggle girls and the muggle motor bicycles he'd stuck to the wall with magic. They held no emotions for him anymore. Now, he even found himself disliking the ugly contrast they provided to the room.

His wand sat on the bedside table next to him. He was hungry, anxious; in a split second, he took his wand and aimed an _Incendio _at the pictures.

The spell sang as it left his hand.

Sirius watched entranced as the fire ate up the wall. The wall, of course, wasn't damaged – all magical families put fire-resistance spells on their homes – but the fire swiftly gobbled up the paper of the pictures. When it finally extinguished itself, Sirius found himself wanting to do more and more.

_Is this was magic is supposed to feel like?_

It was beautiful and gorgeous and _right_ and he could feel the power of the magic humming in agreement inside his body. It was all new to him.

By chance, he glanced down at his left hand. And then looked back.

He'd never gotten a chance to see the Black Heir ring up close before, but it seemed like it'd always been there. The ring was simple and elegant: the crest of the Black Family carved into pure gold.

And then horror ran cold through him as the memory of how he had received the ring came rushing back to him.

* * *

It took only a minute to race to his younger brother's room.

His pulse racing, he paused in front of the door to compose himself. It slowly swung open at the slightest touch of his fingers.

Regulus was sleeping on the bed. It was obvious in a second that something was wrong: he was completely pale, sweat from a fever covering his forehead. Sirius's gut clenched as Regulus moaned in obvious pain.

He was so preoccupied with Regulus that he only realized he wasn't alone in the room when Bellatrix rose from a chair on the side of the bed.

"Sirius." Her voice was dull with pain. Numbly, Sirius saw the overwhelming grief in her eyes. "You're awake." Having made this observation, she sat back down to gently pat Regulus' head with a wet towel.

"This is my fault." Sirius was cold in his assessment. "I should be the one dying."

Bellatrix turned to him with fury in her eyes, moving slightly as if about to stand, but deflated in a mere second as the grief overtook her once again. She turned back to Regulus. "No, it's my fault as well." It was a whisper; so silent Sirius nearly didn't hear it.

The door swept open softly behind Sirius; he didn't even have to look to know that his mother, her distinctive footsteps muffled, had come into the room. He looked at Bellatrix with questioning eyes, but she quickly left the room, gaze lowered, at Walburga's unspoken command.

Sirius' mother glided over to her youngest son's side and took up the wet towel Bellatrix had left. "Go see your father, Sirius." She didn't even look at him. "There's nothing you can do in here."

He didn't obey, didn't listen – he couldn't accept that. Never.

"There has to be something. Anything…" Sirius was standing by Regulus now, and dropped to his knees as if praying to his mother. "_Please_…"

She broke down. "I don't know anything anymore, Sirius… my baby's dying and I don't know how to stop it…" Tears fell one by one from her eyes. "What _happened_, Sirius?"

The story came out slowly, then quickly; Sirius held nothing back. He had no wish to avoid blame – indeed, no one could have made him feel more guilty than he already felt at that moment.

But at the end, strangely, he found himself with his head in his mother's lap, her fingers slowly carding his hair, like they used to do when Sirius was a boy.

"I should blame you, then." The obvious pain in Walburga's voice was like a stab to Sirius with every word. "But how can I? You are my son…" Her voice trailed off as Sirius felt her lift his hand up. "The ring fits you." She seemed to be surprised.

Silence filled the room for a few moments, and then Sirius felt the change.

"Enough." She lifted his head up. "This will not save your brother – oh, why was I being such a _fool_? Sirius, I need to explain some things to you." Walburga rose from her chair and walked swiftly over to one of the drawers in the room. The dagger she brought back was unmistakable to Sirius: he'd only seen it for a second, but the carved, morbid design on the hilt was unforgettable. "The dagger we took out of your brother was poisoned. You actually saved him by coming straight back – the poison was designed to be released when the dagger was removed from the skin. Your father was able to stabilize him before we took it out and that bought us a little more time to save him." said his mother. "Unfortunately, we cannot take him to St. Mungo's – they'd be useless even if they didn't Floo the Light Side and tell them immediately that Regulus was lying there so that they could finish the job – and no one in the family has experience in this particular family of poisons." Her voice was bitter- not that Sirius could blame her. Even he knew that St. Mungo's, supposed to be a place of safety and healing, offered no help to families like his.

"Aunt Walburga?" Bellatrix's voice startled his mother; her head spun to face her niece in the now open doorway. "I need to tell Sirius something."

"No. Not that." said his mother quickly. "Please leave, Bellatrix."

Sirius glanced at his cousin. Her hair was wilder than normal; she looked like she hadn't slept in days. "Please. I have to make this right –"

"Bella, what is it?" Sirius interrupted before his mother could send her away again.

Bellatrix looked at Walburga fearfully, but her voice held steady. "You need to take a look at his arm."

Inside, he knew what was coming. It was the same story for many of the Slytherins around his age – even for some of the Ravenclaws – and though no one ever talked about it (at least as far as he knew), everyone knew what was happening. He'd never been approached, probably due to his… unique situation, but he knew Bellatrix and Lucius had.

It was still a surprise to see the Dark Mark, in all of its terrible glory, on his brother's pale skin.

"He hasn't even graduated though…" Sirius let out accidentally.

"He was old enough to make his decision," said Walburga firmly. "And it was his life to give."

He let his brother's arm sink back into the sheets and looked at his cousin. "But what does this have to do with anything?"

"The Dark Lord is experienced with these things. If anyone will know how to combat this poison, he will."

"No." His mother's voice had never been more furious. "I have already lost one son, Bellatrix. I will not lose another. I forbid this."

"Aunt Walburga, we've combed through the entire library. Our entire family has searched up and down. There is no record of this poison _that we know of_. We don't have the time to keep looking." She turned to Sirius with pleading eyes . "Sirius, this might be your brother's only chance of survival-"

"Then it should be you! Why Sirius?-"

They kept going back and forth, but Sirius turned back to Regulus. Softly, he swept some of Regulus' hair out of his eyes and looked at his younger brother sadly.

There was no decision to make.

"Stop." The two women turned to him in surprise.

Sirius went over to his mother and hugged her. "This is my choice, Mother." He knew Bellatrix wouldn't be able to hear his whisper. Her body sagged in defeat in his arms.

He stepped back and, turning to Bellatrix, nodded at her. "Thank you for letting me know." Sirius left the room in silence, sure of his purpose for the first time.

* * *

Sirius found his father in the family library. Orion looked up from the book he had open, shut it softly, and put it to the side. Neither spoke for several moments.

"You've seen Regulus?" said his father at last.

Sirius nodded. "I want to see the Dark Lord."

Orion looked at him gravely. "You are aware this is not something to be taken lightly."

"I know. But we don't have any time left."

"I have a Healer coming from Italy."

"You know as well as I do he won't be able to do anything." He pleaded with his eyes. "I want to do this, father."

His father looked away. "I will arrange a meeting for today," he said. "I trust you to know what is expected of you in front of the Dark Lord."

**Let me know what you thought! I've heard some interesting suggestions in the reviews and I'm definitely taking them under consideration, so feel free to let me know if you have one!**

**(Also- yes, this chapter was really, really hard to write and I know it's a little forced in some places. Don't worry, the next chapter will be much better.)**

**~ Alexye**


	19. Chapter 18: To die, to sleep

**Hey everyone!**

**Sorry for the small delay (my computer had to go in for repairs last week) but the new chapter's finally here. I hope everyone enjoys! (Also, side note- in my story, Voldemort hasn't gone as far with dark magic, so he hasn't been transformed into snake face. But there'll be more in later chapters.)**

The Dark Lord's secret headquarters were not, surprisingly, that difficult to find.

The stately manor house rose slowly out of the darkness before Sirius' eyes. He'd been instructed by his father to Apparate nearly a mile away and had found himself in an abandoned town – if it could even be called that. In truth, it might had once been a town, but was now groups of one or two buildings scattered here and there, all falling down in shambles. Sirius had seen some sort of muggle contraption in the midst of it all; it looked like they were pulling down the remaining shells of buildings.

It was dirty and stank of muggles.

It was also not the sort of place one would expect to find the Dark Lord.

To be fair, the house was actually quite far from the town – Sirius had even passed another town on the way – enough so, that had someone been tracking Sirius' Apparations, they would not have been able to pinpoint where he was headed. He himself was careful not to cast magic while walking; had Orion not told him about the nearly unnoticeable pattern of dying trees that marked the way, Sirius would have been lost completely.

Unlike 12 Grimmauld Place, the house was not under the Fidelus Charm. That didn't surprise him: his family's summer house, along with many Pureblood country estates, weren't placed under the charm either. Once one knew what to look for, after all, it was easy to find the house. It was much less noticeable to _not _have a house under the Fidelus.

The delicately carved gates swung open silently as he approached. It took a mere minute to reach the doors; the gravel crunched loudly under Sirius' boots as he walked up the driveway. Dark, looming hedges seemed to reach over him, and Sirius was a little relieved when he finally reached the entranceway.

This wasn't exactly a social call, after all.

Before he had a chance to knock, the door was opened for him.

"Hello," said an impeccably dressed man in what Sirius knew to be muggle clothes. "You must be Master Black. If you'll follow me, I will show you where you can wait."

Sirius nodded once, trying to hide his confusion. What was a muggle butler doing in the Dark Lord's house?

He lead Sirius up the grand entranceway staircase into a smaller room. That small room lead to several other small rooms; as he followed the man through, Sirius noticed they were not decorated merely with formal portraits, like many Pureblood houses, but rather several portraits – most did not seem to even be related – and larger paintings of landscapes and mythological subjects. The rooms themselves were tastefully done in different colors, though greens and silvers were a recurring theme throughout all.

Finally, they arrived in a large library. The man gave a small bow to Sirius and held the door open in welcome, but as soon as he walked in, the door shut firmly behind him. Sirius wasn't foolish enough to try it – he knew the door had been locked behind him.

The room he found himself had obviously not been touched for quite some time. There was no dust, but the books and tomes on the ornate, dark wood bookcases seemed to be at least one or two centuries old. Gilt that had once covered the edges of the bookcases was now peeling slowly off. Though the curtains had been pulled back on the two large, floor-to-ceiling windows, it had only gotten darker since Sirius had arrived. The light from candles lit throughout the room seemed to dance across the floor, but did nothing to lessen the darkness.

It was empty.

It felt like several minutes before Sirius dared to even move. Curiosity finally got to him though, and he walked forward slowly towards the center of the room towards the fireplace. But one of the older tomes caught his eye, and before he knew it, he found himself in front of the bookcase, hand outstretched, about to slide the tome out its place.

"How curious you chose that one."

Sirius nearly fell back. Wildly, he turned around, trying to find the voice; if he hadn't spoken again, Sirius would have thought he imagined it.

"It's one of the older tomes in the library, actually," said Lord Voldemort, stepping out of a darkness of a doorway Sirius hadn't noticed before. "Perhaps I'll even let you read it sometime." His tone was bored, but the warning was clear.

Sirius had only ever caught of glimpse of the Dark Lord, and had never met him. He was nothing like Sirius had pictured.

Dark, full hair fell lazily over a classically handsome face. He was tall – taller than Sirius, but not so tall that one would have to look too much up. If Sirius had to guess, he would have said that he was about 30.

It was Voldemort's aura, though, that caught Sirius' attention the most.

It was easily the most powerful he'd ever felt, even more powerful than Dumbledore's, and no one could have ever confused what magical affinity the Dark Lord had. The Dark Magic radiated from him, even reaching where Sirius stood. He _projected _power with every movement, and Sirius desired nothing more right then than to kneel before him. His own magic reached out for it, seeking it out in awe of its strength – and against Sirius' will.

He knew it was a test. It took every fiber of his body to resist, and as the seconds wore by, Sirius felt his body begin to shake with exertion. But somehow, _somehow_ he held still, face blank, with only his eyes betraying how much he fought.

Finally, Sirius saw a slight smirk appear on the Dark Lord's face, and the pressure lifted. He nearly fell when it did, but thankfully only stumbled backwards, the bookcase behind him stopping him from embarrassing himself further.

"Please, sit." said the Dark Lord smoothly, pointedly choosing to ignore what had happened mere seconds before. Despite the wording, it was not a request.

Sirius walked forward hesitatingly to sit in one of the armchairs that were settled comfortably in front of the fireplace. As soon as he had sat down, the doors behind him opened with an ever so slight creak, and the butler that had ushered him through before walked into Sirius' view with two glasses of wine on a silver plate. He bowed and offered a glass first to Sirius, and then to the Dark Lord.

"Thank you, Michael." The butler bowed silently in acknowledgement, and then left.

Before he could stop himself, the words were already out of Sirius' mouth. "Why do you have a muggle in your house?"

Lord Voldemort tilted his head to the side slightly. "All my followers wonder that, though they're not brave enough to tell me to my face that they think I'm crazy," Lord Voldemort said finally. "But I'll tell you why. It's so that when Dumbledore – or any of the Light Forces – they see the muggle, and without even questioning him, move on. They can't sense a house elf here, after all, and I can hide my magic easily. So for all they know, only muggles life here – and after all, what sort of Dark Lord use _muggles_?" He smiled coldly, but with a trace of amusement.

"That's… actually quite brilliant." Sirius cringed inside; the words sounded stupid the second they came out of his mouth. But he couldn't help himself for some reason. To stop himself from saying any more – at least then – he took a small sip of the wine.

"I try," he said with more amusement, but still cold. "But enough about me. You, the heir to the House of Black, sitting here with me… I must admit, I never thought it would happen." He took a sip, and then lowered his glass, swirling the wine in one hand lazily. "And with such _power_… from what I'd heard, you were ready to go join the Light Forces. What a pity that would've been – I may have killed you myself. And then I hear today that you wanted to speak to me." His eyes bored into Sirius'. "I do so hope you've come to join me." His tone warned that this was the only thing he expected to hear.

"Actually…" Sirius took a deep breath, and jumped fully. "I've come about my brother."

"Yes, one of my youngest. I hear he's been injured."

"Dying."

Lord Voldemort leaned forward slightly and looked down at his wine for a moment. He looked back at Sirius. "And am I supposed to do something about that?"

Sirius swallowed.

Lord Voldemort snorted and sank back into his chair. "All you purebloods are the same, you know – you're all to terrified to talk to me. I thought you Blacks would be different; after all, your father was one of my first. But then I got Bellatrix, who is too emotional, and now _you_-"

Sirius knew instinctively that he had to be bold (though some would call it stupidly reckless). "I want to know if you can save him – I _want_ you to save him."

Lord Voldemort opened his mouth, about to speak. Sirius stared defiantly back at him.

"Finally, some backbone." Sirius let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Why should I save him, though? He's of no use to me right now, _and_ he wasn't even injured fighting for me. No… he was injured… protecting _you_. Why should I reward such behavior?" He smiled viciously. "Consider this his punishment."

The air left him. This couldn't be the end… this couldn't be the way Regulus would die.

No.

_I do so hope you've come to join me._

The Dark Lord leaned back in his chair, waiting. He hadn't thrown him out yet. He had named his price: he wouldn't beg, he wouldn't plead for Sirius to join him – no, he wanted him, but he also wanted Sirius to come to him, willingly and freely.

"I will do whatever…" The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow at the loose implications of Sirius' words. Sirius took a deep breath and started over. "I will join you, if only you will save my brother."

The Dark Lord smiled.

"I suppose that would be acceptable," he said at last. "But it won't be as easy as that. No. You see, it would be a waste for me to go through all that effort to save your brother if you turned out to be… well, less then useful. And then there was the question of that very important mission your brother was _supposed_ to complete…" His voice trailed off thoughtfully.

"I'll do it," Sirius said quickly, leaping at the chance. "Tell me what you want me to do, and I will do it."

"_Really_?" The Dark Lord made it sound like he hadn't even considered the possibility. "And what will I do with you afterwards? Why would I trust you with my secret plans… when you might just go running to Dumbledore with them."

"I didn't come here to play games," said Sirius, grinding out the words. "My brother is _dying_-"

"And there's that backbone again." The Dark Lord smiled. It immediately sent a chill down Sirius' spine. "Very well then. Come here."

Sirius knew the motions already. In a swift step, he was before Voldemort; in another second, he was kneeling, his arm outstretched and his sleeve rolled up.

"Someone's taught you well," the Dark Lord said with disinterest. He took out his wand and held it to Sirius' forearm.

Sirius felt his pulse speed up; he couldn't take it anymore. Frantically, he said "Please, just _do_ it-"

Sirius didn't even hear the spell cast before his arm exploded with fire. It was only unexpected, however, and barely hurt; more interesting to Sirius was the way he could feel the spell – almost like pincers – sink into his forearm and into his magic, binding him to the Dark Lord. On his skin, dark lines began to dance back and forth, the color fading and then reappearing, before jolting and settling into the familiar shape of the Dark Mark.

Numbly, he stared at the mark. And then his eyes rose to meet the Dark Lord's, his face emotionless and his eyes cold.

"The mission?"

* * *

Lily walked through her room aimlessly. Well, not quite aimlessly – she was _supposed _to be cleaning, but it was just so hard when she kept running into all these memories. As she walked by her dresser, she paused to picked up a picture frame. Her mouth widened into a small smile.

The picture had been taken when she was barely ten. It was the day of Petunia's birthday – one of the last before Lily had received her letter and her whole world had changed – and showed a beaming Mrs. Evans hugging her two daughters, both laughing wildly as they struggled to run out of her arms.

_So much had changed since that day_, she thought mournfully. _I went to Hogwarts… and Petunia didn't. Mom stopped smiling. Dad stopped coming home early when I came home. _

"Lily?" Her mom's voice broke through her thoughts. "There's someone here for you…" Her footsteps echoed as she walked up the stairs.

Lily put down the picture softly. "Mom, I'd actually love to talk to you about something-"

"That's nice, dear." If Lily had turned, she would have seen the vacant, airy look in her mother's eyes. "But you need to talk to him."

"Okay, mom, but after that let's talk," she said, still staring at the picture.

"Hello, Miss Evans." Her head snapped up; she didn't know the voice, but it screamed danger—

She hit the floor before she even realized it.

When Lily woke up, her mind was… fuzzy. Her body too. She just didn't want to… move.

Her head hurt. So much. The stone- _stone?_- what-

And water. Dripping water-

"Oh good, wonder girl's awake." It seemed a bit sarcastic to Lily.

She groaned involuntarily as she lifted her head, the pain forcing her to stop. Her vision was blurry, the stones above her going in and out of focus as she tried to open her eyes. Lily flinched when a drop of water hit her forehead-

_Water?_ Her mind focused so suddenly that her body jolted. _What's going on?_

Struggling with purpose now, Lily tried to lift her head. The rest of her body simply refused to obey her at first, but she finally was able to shift into a position where she could see the rest of the room—_is it even a room?_

The voice had come from her side, but to her still-tired eyes the darkness was almost too much.

"What, is the princess too tired?" Nope, she wasn't imagining it – whoever it was, they _really _didn't like her. Blinking, the she finally saw the figure before her.

It didn't seem quite real, but the figure refused to disappear even after she blinked several times.

Before her, like some hideous medieval torture device, stood – though stood was perhaps not the best word – a gnarly wooden pole. An old woman, looking quite like a muggle witch about to be burned, was thoroughly tied to it, her already swollen feet left to dangle several inches above the floor. The only part of her body that remained unbound was her face.

"Who… who _are_ you?" Shock filled her voice. "And where am _I_?"

Instead of taking sympathy on the traumatized girl, the tied-up woman sneered at her. "And here I heard how you were so smart. Well, if you're so smart, why don't you get us out of-"

"Quiet, you bat." Lily's spine stiffened instinctively. It was the man from before. Instantly, she let her head drop back down to the floor, as if pretending to be asleep would save her from whatever dark fate clearly awaited her. _Clip. Clop._

The falling drops of water hit the floor just as the man began to walk. Lily peaked, she couldn't help it-

"I knew you weren't asleep." Lily leaped back in fear as she opened her eyes to that hideously smiling face. "Oh, don't be scared now," said the man as he rose to stand over her still nearly paralyzed body that was unable to run away. "The more you struggle, the worse this will be for you." He pulled out his wand quickly and made a rapid swish in the air. Twisting her head rabidly now, Lily felt herself being lifted up on only air and onto a stone slab she hadn't noticed before. She opened her mouth to scream, but it was no use: the unspoken spell had now muted her. "Oh, I know, I'd love to hear you scream too," said the man coldly as her eyes fell on him, mouth opened desperately. "But I'd rather not wake the whole household."

"Father?" Lily would have gasped if she'd been able too; she settled for turning her head towards the noise. But despite her wild hopes, none other than James Potter had entered.

She closed her mouth. The tears dried up.

Slowly, she turned her face to the ceiling.

"Miss Evans, I see you remember James. How lovely." Charlus Potter's dark, bottomless eyes met her's as he leaned over her, securing some sort of binding. "I wouldn't bother asking him for help, though. I thought it would be much easier just to _Imperio_ him for this ritual. He's got quite a lot to learn, still – it'd be a pity to see it all wasted just because he felt something for you." He could have been talking about the weather in that tone.

He paused over her. "You still don't understand, do you?" Lily felt the ropes tighten on her arms, but she ignored it, just as she ignored him. _I will not give you that satisfaction, you monster._ "I see." His voice mocked with every word. "All the better for me, then." His eyes held hers as she felt a wand touch her head.

And then it all fell into darkness once more.

* * *

"Are you the new recruit? Nevermind, of course you are – come on, we're already late." Lucius Malfoy entered and exited the library in the same second, knowing he wouldn't dare not follow the pureblood heir.

A masked Sirius Black hastily tucked the book he'd been reading back into his robe and followed swiftly. The door slammed quietly behind him.

_The Dark Lord handed him the newly conjured mask silently. Sirius, still kneeling, tilted his head up; at the Dark Lord's nod, he rose respectfully and, taking the mask, slipped it onto his face. The magic on the mask fitted onto his face smoothly, shifting slightly to fit his face. Despite the lack of any sort of ties, the mask held perfectly on his face._

"_Come." The Dark Lord turned sharply and walked over to the bookcase Sirius had been standing at early. His hand flew over the books, stopping as it came to the exact book Sirius had been so drawn to. But then his hand wavered. _

_The Dark Lord turned his head towards him, raising an eyebrow, questioning whether or not Sirius would respond. When Sirius didn't move, he slid out one of the other books without looking at the bookcase_

_He offered the book to Sirius delicately. "Come to me after you've read it, and we'll talk further. In the meantime, wait here."_

Sirius had followed Lucius through a long hallway and out of the house. Unconsciously, he shivered as the cold night air hit him, but he regained composure in a mere second. In the distance, Sirius saw what looked like sticks on the hill.

As he'd assumed, Lucius lead him up the hill, where the sticks turned into figures as they grew closer and closer. They stopped when they finally reached the huddled group.

"Finally," said one of the figures softly. With a jolt, Sirius recognized the voice of his cousin Bellatrix.

Lucius turned slightly towards Sirius and motioned with his hand towards the group. Sirius realized he was about to ask his name only seconds before he started to talk. _But why would the Dark Lord-_

"Wolf, this is Owl, Falcon, and Possum. I'm Griffin." Sirius could have sworn he felt his heart skip a beat before he realized that Lucius was using code names. _He doesn't even realize I know him_, he thought coldly.

Lucius turned towards the group once more. "We're going to be flying to a town called Cokesworth. It's a few miles south – take a broomstick from the pile." He gave them a second to pick up their broomsticks. As he picked his up, Sirius noticed the name _Firestorm_ carved in gold on the side. So the Dark Lord didn't spare any expense when it came to his Death Eaters – _well, his prodigies at least_ he amended as his eyes swept over the group. With Bellatrix – or Falcon – in the group, he doubted that the rest of the group would be any less impressive.

"It's a simple mission. Go into the house – there shouldn't be any wards, but wait for my signal – and take anything that might be important."

"Might be important?" Falcon murmured.

"Papers, potions, books – anything that looks like it could have information in it, take it. Don't bother reading anything, just take it all. We need to get to it before the someone else does."

"Do we know what's so important about the information there?" Lucius turned to Sirius as if he had just noticed him.

"The Dark Lord's missive was to look for anything that could be used in a binding ritual. But we are to collect any books on magic at all. And anything blank – we don't have time to try and find if anything's hidden inside. Any other questions?"

"Why the code names?" The voice was one of a fellow Slytherin – though several years older, and slightly stupid, if Sirius recalled correctly.

"Well, Possum…" Lucius emphasized the name deliberately. "Veritsum. Do you really want to get caught us all caught on your first mission?"

Possum shut up.

"Let's go."

They reached the house barely an hour later. It was in a slightly run-down neighborhood, surrounded on either side by identical houses. Though lights were on in some of the houses down the street, all of the houses closest to them were dark. The house next to the target even appeared as if it had been abandoned suddenly.

As he started to move forward, a hand on his shoulder pulled him back. He turned his head to the side; it was his own cousin, who motioned silently to Lucius. _Stupid, Sirius, _he chided himself. _You have to start thinking things through._

Lucius had his eyes fixed on the house in determination. His mouth moved, but no sound came out; even in the darkness, Sirius could have sworn he saw small drops of sweat appear on his forehead. _He's testing for wards. Where did he learn _that?

He motioned them forward a few seconds later. Sirius let Bellatrix move in front of him – or rather she quickly swept herself forward to follow Lucius in. He didn't bother taking it personally; after all, he was only a new, measly recruit for all she knew.

Lucius motioned him to the second floor. Bellatrix and the other – Owl, Sirius remembered – followed the two of them upstairs. Possum, Lucius made quite clear, was to stay downstairs and search the tiny living room.

The second floor had only two rooms. Bellatrix tugged him into the room to the left, which seemed to be some sort of a study. She tossed him a small bag as he started to walk towards the bookcase. "Don't worry, it won't fill up. Go quickly."

He nodded and began to toss books indiscriminatingly into the bag.

Sirius finished far too soon.

His eyes swept the bookcase slowly. He had missed something, he _knew_ it. Or maybe it was just a feeling-

Sirius closed his eyes and reached out with his magic. Immediately, he found it: one of the bumps in the wood wasn't natural, wasn't _right_. He wasn't stupid enough to press it with his hand, though. Sirius opened his eyes.

It was a simple potion, applied to the wood, often used in half-blood or muggleborn homes. It was a cheap and efficient way to hide things that one didn't want found. Most witches and wizards applied it to everything from locked boxes to secret compartments: once the opening was coated in the potion, it would only open for the fingerprint that first locked it.

And if you didn't know it had been applied… why, simply touching the opening would spread an acid onto the finger that would slowly spread up the hand, killing each and every nerve.

He smiled. There was a reason this potion wasn't used in pureblood households, and now he understood why. Closing his eyes again, Sirius pushed forward with his magic, slowly mimicking the distinct ridges of the fingerprint embedded in the potion.

The cupboard swung open. Without even looking at what he had found, Sirius quickly lifted the papers out of the small compartment. Sweeping his eyes one last time over the compartment, he noticed a small flask he'd missed.

And in just enough time.

Bellatrix nearly made him jump when her hand touched his shoulder softly. He turned around to face her; behind him, his magic made the compartment shut softly. She lifted a finger to her lips and motioned to the stairs with her head. Sirius listened – it was quiet, but there was a distinct pair of footsteps downstairs.

And then a second.

He nodded that he'd gotten the message, though his blood had run cold. Surely they hadn't been sent into a trap?

Bellatrix motioned towards a window he hadn't noticed beforehand. Grabbing his hand, she slowly crept towards the window; it swung open before they reached it. Outside, Sirius counted two others – but not a third.

"_Accicio_ broomsticks," said Bellatrix in such a low voice that Sirius almost didn't hear her. Holding her bag in one hand, she lifted herself out of the window and swung herself onto the broomstick; Sirius followed quickly on the other.

On the first floor of the house, Charlus Potter stood next to the unconscious body of the man known to Sirius only as Possum, watching four figures fly off in the darkness.

**Let me know what you think! Leave me any thoughts, comments, future wishes – I listen to them all.**

**The next chapter should be up sometime next week, since I have a pretty free weekend.**

**~ Alexye**


End file.
